The Paths We Tread
by Anxious Owl
Summary: AU; Maria Stark dies soon after giving birth to Tony, leaving Howard to raise his son alone. However in the world where Tony is the genius playboy we all know and love, the realities collide, throwing both parties into turmoil. All characters will be involved. Chapter 12: Each team deals with the aftermath.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone!

I was in misery waiting until I could see this film and I was NOT disappointed, as many of you probably agree. To convey my enormous appreciation for this fandom I present to you my first Avengers fanfiction.

Summary: the Arc Reactor can provide enough power to run a heart for fifteen lifetimes, or something big for fifteen minutes; the mechanical marvel that is the Iron Man suit.

But what could it achieve in a fraction of a moment?

* * *

The Paths We Tread

She gently placed a hand onto his shoulder.

He flinched slightly, but gave a weak smile as he looked up at her. Only then did he realise just how tired he was. He had been sitting hunched over for an hour and a half, elbows on knees with clasped hands between them. He straightened up and exhaled as his back muscles protested against the movement.

Peggy took a seat beside him, hair perfectly coifed and uniform sharp and impeccable, as per usual. Supporting an old colleague-slash-friend was the last thing she had expected to be doing when she departed on this trip to America. It was as if they were back in the same position they had been in back when Steve-

She stopped that particular train of thought. It didn't do to dwell on the past. She and Howard had been two of many people who mourned the loss of their Captain. She had been both surprised and touched by the extents to which Howard had gone to attempt to find him, scouring the ocean floor for almost a year. He never did. So they had moved on and pulled back some semblance of normalcy, as if the horrors of the war didn't still weigh heavily on their minds.

Howard had surprised her yet again, by getting married. She had met his wife, only once whilst visiting S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. She was one of the biological scientists, and had struck Peggy as kind, calm and measured, quite the opposite of her exuberant, snarky but well-meaning husband. However a wry spark in the woman's eyes told of a side that Howard had probably fallen for.

As for Peggy, her career had progressed and she was relatively stable and comfortable with her life. She had not ventured into any kind of relationship. She told herself that this had nothing to do with Steve, but that statement didn't soothe the ache in her chest whenever she thought about him. She realised that she could understand Howard's pain more than she first thought. And that she had just done what she had actively tried to avoid and gotten lost in her thoughts. She broached the air, now thick with tension.

"How is she?"

He ran his hands over his face exasperatedly. "They've been in there ever since she came in. Every time someone comes out all they do is tell me to wait. I've been doing nothing _but _wait. I just need to know."

"She'll pull through," Peggy assured him, "After all; she's got to be tough after having agreed to marry you."

She smiled half-heartedly, trying to lighten the situation, something she was no expert at. She was rewarded with a small grin, but that was all. She decided to approach by a different method.

"What happened?"

* * *

Howard had been in a board meeting. They were discussing the possibility of a partnership with another company. Several of the board members had been maintaining that an alliance would mean Stark Industries would have access to not only more and different resources, but new ideas. That they could diversify somewhat, and explore new territories in weapons manufacture. The idea held no appeal whatsoever for Howard. Their company was successful, profitable and probably the most advanced technologically. Their independence was what gave them such a stronghold. They were growing by the day, so an alliance would only be a liability.

Obadiah rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "It is an interesting option. They're offering thirty nine percent of their shares..."

Howard swivelled his sceptical gaze to rest on that of his business partner. He quirked an eyebrow. "In return for something in very particular from us, I expect."

"Well, the know-how behind the Manhattan project had been touched-"

"-No, Obie. That has nothing to do with Stark Industries as it is. They're fishing for something big, but I can tell you now they won't find it here," he ended the discussion before it begin and pushed up from the armrests of his chair, claiming the attention of the occupants of the vast boardroom.

"I have taken the proposal of an alliance into consideration," he said, "I have decided that it is in the best interests of this company and its workers and shareholders to decline this offer."

He paused to allow the fresh thrum of voices to dissipate before continuing, "I understand the possible benefits to the company in such a venture, but these are starkly outweighed by the possible pitfalls," he grinned inwardly at his unconscious name-dropping, "If I could throw up my own suggestion, we should concentrate on advancing our biotechnology department. There is still very much to discover in this particular field, which many of our rivals have yet to even consider. We should take advantage of this."

He walked behind his chair and slowly progressed to the front of the room whilst looking out to the board members, "Stark Industries should remain as it always has; pioneering, unique, at the forefront of discovery."

He was now standing in front of the large table, which stretched to the back of the room and faced a projector screen behind him. He slipped his hands into his pockets.

"But most of all, independent. Everything we've achieved to date-"

The door to the room, situated to his right, had been suddenly pushed open. His PA, Janet, leant into the room, gripping the handle. Her eyes were bright and cheeks flushed. It took a lot to get Janet so flustered.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt, sir, but there's an urgent message for you," she took a breath.

His brow furrowed and every gaze was fixed on them, some questioning, some worried.

"It's about your wife."

That was all it had taken. He all but ran from the room, leaving the meeting in Obadiah's more than capable hands.

Janet power walked to keep up with him and informed him of the news without him needing to ask, "I got a call from Agent Wainwright. Apparently some sort of explosion occurred in one of the biogenetics labs," she avoided directly naming S.H.I.E.L.D in public, something he was grateful for, he later realised.

"They're evacuating now, but they said she was at a workstation close to it. The medics haven't been able to fully assess her yet," she came to a stop in beside him in front of the elevator and looked him in the eyes, "But there's always a risk with pregnancy."

He nodded, "I want a car out by the time I reach the lobby. Tell them I'm coming."

She walked away quickly, carefully composed once more. Howard stepped into the elevator and tried to calm his racing heart as it descended, the familiar lurch in his stomach only exacerbating his panicked condition.

He was not a religious man, but he could only pray that all would be well.

* * *

The car was travelling at a speed which could get him a hefty fine, but he didn't care. For him, money was no object. He was running towards the entrance to the labs complex, which was obstructed by hordes of uniformed S.H.I.E.L.D personnel and emergency services. He sped through them with relative ease, given that practically every employee knew who he was – one of the founding members, that is. He was only stopped as he came close to Maria's usual lab. There were two ambulances and several clumps of higher order agents surrounding the entrance. An agent noticed him straight away and strode up to him.

"She is behind the ambulance," he gestured to his left, "You can go with her."

Fury was one of the few agents who held Howard's respect. He was relatively new to the organisation, but had proven himself on countless occasions. Howard spared him a grateful look before moving off again. The medics, who were preparing to take her away, stepped away slightly at Maria's request.

She was lying on a stretcher, but had her hands clasped beneath the bump that dominated her lower torso and her legs were bunching up from the pain, making her appear so very small. He grasped her hands as he ran his eyes up and down her frame, scanning for obvious injuries whilst raining down a barrage of questions.

"What happened? Are you hurt? Who in the worl-"

She held her hand up weakly and caught his gaze.

"I-I don't know, and right now I don't care," she paused to allow a spike of pain to pass, "Just, just make sure our baby is safe. Please..."

* * *

Peggy nodded slowly. She truly didn't know what to say, what possible comfort she could give. She could only assure him everything would work out alright in the end. Whether it did or not, was another matter entirely. The silence was broken by a nurse clad in blue, informing Mr. Stark that he should see his wife now.

He shot up and turned to leave, but remembered Peggy and turned around. She smiled.

"Go ahead, I'll wait to talk to you properly after."

He nodded and left with the nurse. Peggy's smile dropped off almost instantaneously, the nurse's words ringing in her head: he _should _see her now. With her lifetime of experience in the armed forces, she knew all too well what they meant.

* * *

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and there were shadows beneath her usually bright sharp eyes. But what stuck out to him the most – her bump was gone. She noticed his shock and smiled weakly. He regained some form of consciousness and came closer, collapsing into the chair beside her bed and lacing their fingers together. He was bursting with thoughts, feelings and questions. Most prominent of all, was their child no more? This time, however, he waited. She looked very serene, he noted, probably due to being dosed up on painkillers. She looked past him, towards the doctor standing in front of the closed door.

She was in her mid to late forties, with short auburn hair. A pair of rectangular glasses hung from a chain around her neck. She took a breath, stepped forward and began to speak.

"Mr. Stark, the impact of the explosion caused your wife to go into an early labour. Only while delivering your son did we find a large internal bleed."

He had been staring at the tiled floor throughout the doctor's explanation, eyes moving every now and again as he processed the news; their child was alive and he was a boy. But there is a bleed. The doctor, meanwhile, had paused, obviously gearing up for the final cruel blow.

"I'm afraid it is too far gone for us to consider any form of treatment."

He rounded on her, "Why not? I want you to do everything remotely possible, I'll pay with every dime I have! I'll give everything, anything, just save her!"

"Howard..." Maria breathed.

He looked back to her, "You can't give up. You can't leave me, I need you," he pressed his lips together; "_We _need you."

She smiled and pressed a soft hand to his cheek which he covered with his own larger one. The doctor by now had allowed them some privacy. She tilted her head to the side, dark brown locks shifting.

"I was thinking," she stroked the top of his cheek while in thought, "How does Anthony sound?"

He laughed. Only she could find some kind of silver lining. He gave a mock look of indifference. "It'll do. But he'll only be Anthony if you're there to write it on the birth certificate."

Her smile faltered, "You'll be fine. I know you'll be a great Daddy."

His tone became more serious. "Mar, you know what I'm like. I can't handle this by myself. What about his first steps and first words and first calculator? What about when he turns around and asks why every other kid has a Mommy and he doesn't? What then?"

"He'll have you."

"Me? I won't last a week without you. I can't pick a tie let alone raise a child without you," he gripped her hand tighter, "I love you."

"Howard. I love you too, and I'm so sorry, so sorry. You cando this. It will hurt, but you can. I believe in you, I always have."

Her eyelids started to droop but her smile remained. He shook his head and clamped his lips together, willing himself to stay strong, for her and for _him_. Every moment was agony.

"Don't you dare close those eyes. Don't..."

A single, mechanical monotonous sound pierced the air.

He buried his face into her hand and finally allowed hot salty tears to run over her skin.

They were the last thing she felt before she left him.

* * *

Wow, heavy. If you feel even the slightest bit sad, my work is done ;)

This will involve the Avengers more directly as it progresses – please bear with me.

As some of you may have noticed, I have taken a teeny bit of inspiration from the Ultimate Marvel universe after a bit of research (never read a comic in my life), but that's all. The storyline is all my own.

Please review!

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	2. Chapter 2

A big thank you to elizabeth14, I am psycowriter and TheNightFury for their lovely reviews. You guys give me reason to write! I'm going to try to update weekly but whether I stick to that remains to be seen ;)

On with the story…

* * *

Chapter Two

The next few weeks had merged together as Howard lost what little routine he had. This time, no-one down at Stark Industries had any qualms about him taking time off. They all knew it had nothing to do with the wild, colourful antics that had defined their boss in the past. In fact, a significant proportion of those antics had dissolved with his marriage to the lovely Maria Collins Carbonell, something the employees hadn't expected but were pleased by all the same.

Simply put, Howard's life had changed irrevocably. He had lost a wife and gained a child. Nobody knew this, as the hospital had a strict policy on outside reporting and Howard refused to answer any questions as left at nine-thirty the next morning. He headed home, showered, changed, and went straight to Stark Industries. The fact that an accident had occurred involving Mrs. Stark had circulated on the company rumour mill. He received several looks of sympathy and a few of concern, but felt it most strongly from Janet as he walked in to the office.

He couldn't get through a week without her to remind him about meetings, contracts, numerous events (pretty much everything his job entailed). She was organised, smart and didn't buy any of his smooth talk. With her intelligence came a finely tuned sense of right and wrong and a dry sense of humour, which she didn't hesitate to use against him when he was in the wrong.

She was sitting at her desk in a neatly pressed and modest cream skirt suit, tapping at the keys of her computer. Obadiah was seated in the chair on the opposite side of her desk in a much more relaxed position with his legs crossed and elbows on either armrest, hands steepled in front of his face. She looked up and rose straight away. Obadiah looked past his fingers and raised himself from the chair.

"Howard, how's Maria? And what happened last night?" he asked.

He sighed and diverted his gaze to the ground. He would have to put words to the tragedy. Obie he already had faith in, and Janet had been his PA for the past two years now. He knew he could trust her. He looked back up to both her and his business partner and good friend.

"Not here," he said, and led her by the elbow into his office followed by Obie, before turning and closing the door shut firmly behind him.

He rubbed his jaw tiredly.

"Mr. Stark, is everything alright?" she reiterated, "You should sit down…"

"No, I'll stand," he walked behind her and leant a hand against his desk for a moment.

She turned around, foreboding rising in her stomach and glanced at Obadiah, who had his hands in his pockets and an uneasy look on his face. Howard turned to face them both.

"There was an accident at the lab," he paused to gather himself, "It, it made her go into labour early."

Janet clasped her hand to her mouth.

He couldn't bear to say it out loud. But he couldn't keep it a secret forever.

"Sh-she didn't make it."

Janet gasped from behind her hand. Obadiah just stood, stunned to silence.

Howard turned to face the large windows spilling bright morning light into the room from behind his desk. Down below there several smaller buildings, a few of which housed the research and development departments. It was relatively busy, with dozens or employees making their way in and out in their formal business attire. The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight.

Obadiah was the first to recover. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, went over to Howard and gripped his shoulder comfortingly. "I… I'm sorry, Howie. I can't believe it."

Janet spoke after. "If there's anything, anything at all you need, I'm here. You know that."

Howard turned back and forced a smile at them. "Now that you mention it, coffee would be great."

She smiled sadly and left.

He dropped into his chair and rubbed his eyes for the hundredth time that morning. They were bloodshot and rimmed darkly with fatigue.

Obadiah made a last supportive gesture before he left, "You don't worry about a thing. I've got everything handled here – take off as much time as you need."

He walked to the door and made to push down the handle, but hesitated. He returned his gaze to rest on that of Howard. "And… the baby?"

Howard gave the first genuine grin of the day. "A boy. Tiny. But strong. He'll make it – he is a Stark, after all."

* * *

Anthony had been born three and a half weeks prematurely.

Howard dealt with numbers every day, crunched them for a living. But never in this nature. Numbers aren't as reliable on the biological side of things, not like in engineering or physics. There are so many unpredictable, immeasurable variables. Howard thrived on control, so he couldn't stand the immense uncertainty regarding his own child.

It was thanks to the remarkable skill of the surgical team and post operation care team that Anthony had survived the first few nights. Very few children did. He had made sure that if there the slightest change in Anthony's condition, then the hospital would give him a call at home, or leave a message with Janet. This had resulted in a few scares over the first week. His tiny body was very delicate and prone to failure until he grew strong enough to cope on his own without machines to assist his budding heart and soft weak lungs. His skin was pink and his body looked too small in the sterile white baby clothes provided by the hospital, complete with soft cap. He was fed through tubes. The collective image knocked the wind out of his father. It both repelled and drew him to the bedside.

Howard would spend a few hours at some point during the day simply sitting in the room with the baby, sometimes at the opposite end of the room with his folder of drafted blueprints of his newest innovations. Very occasionally he would cross the room to stroke the skin of Anthony's cheek or run a gentle finger through the downy dark wisps on his head. Just to make sure he was no illusion.

Howard couldn't believe his son was in this condition, or that he even had a son. It was so surreal.

_His son._

Howard Stark, industrialist, mastermind, entertainer, _father. _The little person barely a metre away relied on him for absolutely everything. To raise him, to look after him, to nurture him. And, God, he'd never felt so scared. This couldn't be his life, going from not having a care in the world to such profound, crushing responsibility. He felt like running a mile and pretending the past week had never happened.

But thinking such ugly thoughts made him burn with shame. Anthony was Maria's parting gift, the only link to her left. Half her and half Howard. Anthony brought the possibility of a better, brighter future, he realised.

As the days progressed, Howard looked forward to that future more and more. There was nothing else left.

* * *

_It was all procedure, _he told himself, _they'll work it all out._

The consultant paediatrician had ordered a number of scans after observing no change in Anthony's condition. He couldn't breathe on his own. They had said at first that it would take time for the body and circulatory system to strengthen, but after almost three weeks of being assisted by a ventilator they had concluded that something was indeed amiss. _He's made it this far, he'll be fine._ He let his head loll backwards and rest against the laminated display on the wall behind his seat. Dr. Peterson had called Howard in to discuss the results of said scans.

Howard hadn't liked the tone of voice she had used. He hadn't liked it because he couldn't gather anything from it. Doctors were skilled in the art of the blank mask. You can't tell if it's good news or bad news or something in between. He felt like they were hiding things from him (which they were doing in his best interests, of course) and he couldn't help but detest it. Then again, he mused to himself, he did the same with board members, the government and even Obadiah.

He tapped his foot against the tiled floor. A nurse informed him that the doctor would be another fifteen minutes, and suggested he get something to eat from the café on the ground floor. He had gotten a black coffee with one sugar and laboured it until Dr. Peterson arrived.

She led him into her office. There were four different certificates hung on the right hand wall in shiny russet frames. There was a paperweight in the shape of a dolphin on her desk. She walked behind it before offering him a seat. He remained still, eyes focussed but tired.

"It's bad news. Isn't it?"

Calling Howard blunt was an understatement. She only smiled in response, lips pressed together. She proffered her arm in front of her and repeated.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Sorry to leave you hanging, guys.

Soooo... what do you think is wrong with baby Tony? And if it sounds OOC/cliché/waffly, then let me know

It takes a minute to read but merely a moment to review!

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to McRaider, elizabeth14, jack2724, Zenappa, I am psycowriter andShara Raizel for their reviews!

I got this done and decided to let you guys read early. Hope it's worth it ;)

* * *

Chapter 3

"Hello, Miss. Carter?"

"Speaking."

"My name is Janet Davis, PA to Mr. Howard Stark. I believe you are acquainted with him?"

"Yes. We worked together."

"Of course. I was wondering if… you are in a friendship capacity with Mr. Stark. That is, he is in a bad place at the moment and I was hoping that you could offer some support. I didn't know who else to call, he won't listen to any of us..."

* * *

Once again Peggy was to meet with Howard under less than favourable circumstances.

A vehicle courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D dropped her off outside the vast doors of his house. Well, mansion. She turned away from the doors and glanced around the grounds. The car had entered through a tall set of shining black iron gates. It travelled along a straight gravel road bordered by neatly mown grass before curving right into the courtyard she was looking at from her position at the front of the property. A stone fountain sat in the centre and two luxury cars to the right of her. One was a sleek chrome saloon and the other sportier, in cobalt. However in the darkness that came with dusk they appeared almost sinister, the leering shadows cast by the cars coupled with the trickling of the water against the stone.

She wondered what it felt like to live here alone.

Suppressing a shiver she returned to the door and rang the bell. Silence followed. She counted to five before ringing again. Then she curled her brown leather gloved hand into a fist and knocked firmly. After another length of silence she became annoyed. She understood that he was hurting, but standing in the cold at almost ten at night after being on her feet since the early morning was eroding her patience. She had been called for a reason.

She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, staring straight into a security camera nestled in an alcove to the top left of the door. Making her voice as commanding as possible, she spoke directly at it: "Howard, let me in. It's freezing out here."

Still nothing. Her eyes flashed in annoyance. "Fine. If you want to shut yourself away, then it's your choice. I don't know why I even agreed to come here."

Why would he ever listen to her, of all people? She turned on her heel and made to leave, right as she heard a crackling voice emanate from somewhere above her head.

"Peggy?"

She peered back at the camera. "Yes," she paused, softening her voice.

"Please let me in, Howard."

* * *

She sighed internally. The lighting was low, the majority coming from a gently burning fireplace which cast flickering shadows against the wall behind her.

It was obvious that he had been drinking.

He was slumped in a chair, fiddling with a small metallic contraption of some sort. His tie was loosened and top button undone, along with those of his left cuff. Oddly enough, his shirt was still tucked in. His face was worse. His jaw was lined with stubble, obscuring the sharp shape of his moustache. Some of his usually well-kept locks stuck out, while some hung over his forehead. His posture longed for sleep. The only contradiction was his eyes, sharp and glinting brown-black in the firelight as he stared at the gadget, jaw set tight. He spoke first.

"Janet sent you, didn't she?" He gave an empty chuckle.

"Apparently you wouldn't let anyone else in, so it appears she made a good choice."

He nodded absent-mindedly. "She's a good one, good head on those shoulders," he cocked his head, "Pretty head."

This was Howard putting up his walls, ready for the onslaught he must expect from her. She came closer. "What's brought this on? You've never been this bad."

He diverted his gaze to her. It seemed hollow, inducing another shiver within her. "You wouldn't know though, would you? I could've been doing this every night without anyone finding out."

She felt somewhat relieved. At least it was the first time, that much he'd given away. His thoughts didn't seem quite coherent, as though a few had been wading through his mind for a while and had branched off as he fell deeper into the haze.

"It doesn't matter. Obadiah can't talk, with his stash of single malt," his voice wavered, "It's just so much easier, simpler. Always has been," he sniffed, "Mar- She was always getting at me, telling me to lay off the booze..."

"She was right-"

"Don't talk about her!"

Peggy was cut off as Howard suddenly stood up, throwing the handful of metal at the wall beside her, making her flinch and duck to the side as it smashed on impact. Thank God for her army training. As she calmed her hammering heart he put his hands to his face, exhausted.

"God, I'm sorry."

He walked to the bar at the side of the room, shoulders hunched. She followed him, more cautiously than before. She made her voice as level as she could and mustered up all of her diplomacy.

"It's... alright. Just tell me what's wrong."

Glass clinked as he poured a generous measure of brandy into a short glass. "What's right? She's gone. It, it feels like nothing matters anymore."

He brought the glass to his lips.

"Of course it does. You still have so much. You're healthy," _within reason, _she added mentally, eyeing the glass, "You're successful and most importantly - you have a son."

He stopped drinking, the burn no longer as comforting as it had been for the last few hours. Now it made him want to retch. She picked up on the change in atmosphere. "He _is_ alright, isn't he? He'll be coming out soon?" she knew Anthony had to be kept in the hospital, but that was expected; he was premature. What had changed?

"Howard, what's wrong?"

He turned away quickly. She jogged around to force him to look at her. "You can trust me."

She stepped back slightly and gave him space to consider her. He seemed more lucid. Perhaps he always had been. His eyes hardened. "Chances are he won't be coming out."

She waited, lips parting slightly in shock. It all came out in a torrent, his voice thick with grief. "The bleed. It was in the wall around him. It built up so fast and pressed against his skull, his brain," he rapped his own head, knuckles trembling, "Brain damage. That's why he isn't getting any stronger."

Her breath caught in her throat. Anthony Stark was _brain damaged. _Howard knocked back the remaining contents of the glass and dragged the unbuttoned cuff across his lips. "According to the doctor, there's a less than ten per cent chance he'll reach five years old if he doesn't improve now. Even if he does, he could be mentally disabled or paralysed or..."

He slowly laid the glass back down on the side of the bar and let his fingers linger there. "I had so many plans...," he traced the rim with a fingertip, "All gone. Just like that. Everything," he gestured around the room, "Would've been his. He would've been the new face of Stark Industries."

He held up his hands and drew them sideways, the family name up in lights above his eyes. His arms dropped to his sides, eyes glistening as a few droplets dripped down his cheek. He turned away, just as Peggy erupted with a reserve of courage she didn't know she had. She gripped his arms and pulled him around with surprising strength.

"Hey," she fixed him with a hard stare, "Since when did you give up without a fight? When did you become so willing to lie down and accept defeat?"

His face stiffened in anger. "You don't know what you're talking about Peggy. I'm not some green weak-kneed private. You don't have the first clue what this is like."

"Oh, really?" she countered, eyebrows raised, "You think _I_ don't know what being helpless feels like? You were there beside me when everyone else told me Steve was never coming back."

She was stamping on raw nerves now, both his and her own, "When everyone told us to move on and forget him. Tell me, did we forget him? Did _you? _"

He swallowed but held her stare. She pulled back. "No. I didn't think so."

They both looked away and gathered themselves. He breathed heavily and ran his hand through his hair, his emotional reserve spent. She was glad he didn't see her wipe her own eyes. Then again, she supposed she wouldn't have minded. Steve had been a third shadow whenever they had been together for so long. Deep down, neither had truly accepted his death. An air of awkward calm settled over them, as though they hadn't been practically shouting at each other. She adjusted the collar of her coat, weary and feeling more emotional than she had expected to be with a Stark.

"Just give him a chance. Don't lose him too."

He quirked his mouth, his charisma returning to soften his eyes as he stretched his shoulders back. "Well, well, Miss. Carter, I never had you down as one for pep talks."

She gave him a veiled smile. She could only hope that this new-found optimism wasn't for nought. Belief held no weight on the scales of Anthony's life.

"I'm not. Now hit the showers, Stark, you smell like a brewery."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed.

This chapter was quite in depth for these two characters, so please review and let me know if it sounds good or not.

Till next time duckies,

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	4. Chapter 4

I've been keeping to schedule with this story – not a single late update (so far...)

Virtual doughnuts for my reviewers Shara Raizel, elizabeth14 and Dew DeReade.

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 4

"Jarvis? Jarvis! Make sure you get a good one! He's not that big, zoom a little more. Yes. Yes, that's better."

Edwin Jarvis tilted forwards on his feet, trying to push himself just that little bit higher. He was holding a silver StarkCam high in front of his face so that its scope would overlook the numerous heads in front of them. He was somewhat taller than Mr. Stark, so it made sense that he was the one to take pictures. He chuckled quietly. Howard was rather excited. It was times like this that really made you step back to look at the bigger picture.

He still remembered when Howard had first hired him. Raising Anthony had been significantly harder than Howard had expected, pushing him to get some extra help at home. The late Mrs. Stark had fervently refused assistance throughout her pregnancy, but when the situation changed drastically Howard had more than enough reason to hire out a few extra hands around the house, including their now deeply trusted butler and friend.

"There he is!"

Howard grinned broadly. His boy was significantly smaller than all of the other students, but, if anything, it emphasised his brilliance. Among the sea of dark robed youngsters was his son, a head shorter than the average. Tony mirrored his father's grin as he moved closer towards the stage. To the middle of the stage was a professor, the head of faculty, standing beside a polished wooden podium overlooking the crowd. The ceremony was situated on the fields beside the main building due to the agreeable weather. He continued to recite names.

"… Fiona Simcock... there you go, dear, well done…," he handed her the smooth roll of parchment secured with glossy navy ribbon, "… Michael Sorenson… well done… Anthony Stark… here you go, well done…," A firm hand shake accompanied each diploma.

Jarvis dutifully clicked pictures ("To the left, Jarvis!") until Tony left the stage before seating himself back down. The professor stopped and took a moment to survey the gathering of graduates and relatives. "Now it is time to acknowledge our valedictorian. I am pleased to introduce Anthony Stark, not only the youngest student our institution has ever admitted, but also valedictorian of the class in electrical engineering and computer science."

He clapped as he backed away from the podium and seated himself on one of the chairs towards the back. A murmur swept through the throng of people. You had to have been incarcerated in a small room with no windows for the past twenty years to _not _know the name Stark. The boy in question smiled, uncharacteristically embarrassed and made his way up to the stage once more. He rested the heels of his palms onto the smooth surface of the podium and began to speak. "The first thing I want to say is congratulations, I guess. We made it!"

A cheery uproar followed. "It took a lot of hard work to get here, I can tell you that. And I'm not going to lie. When I found out I was accepted... I was terrified. Excited as hell too, you know me," he conceded, "But terrified at the same time. I was just this little kid who liked messing around with wires and circuit boards. I wouldn't fit in. Sure, I'd work and I'd pass – but I would never feel _normal."_

He paused for a moment as he pieced his words together, "But it turns out that it wasn't so scary and that even though I was a little... younger than everyone else, I never let it get to me. That's down to a few special people," he smiled, letting a memory pass over the surface of his mind, "My best friend, for one, who made sure I wasn't stepped on and that I knew where to go, but also regular stuff, like watch movies and play computer games," his voice dropped to a dead-pan, "Even if he did scare the girls away and make sure that there was no booze for a mile radius – not that that stopped me," he laughed, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

He looked back up, "But the most important... well, that's obvious; my Dad. He's always pushed me to be the best that I can be. He's supported me and, and never let me feel like I was missing anything," _or anyone, "_We have people who make us who we are now. My 'family' isn't the most conventional, but all I have and all I've achieved is really down to them. So... what I'm trying to say is... thanks, for everything."

A crescendo of cheerful clapping gradually grew as Tony stood back up on stage to wave at his fellow alumni, cocky grin back in place. Jarvis pulled his eyes away from the boy he'd grown to love like a son and looked at Howard. He looked… content. The pride was evident in his eyes; pools of chestnut brown identical to Tony's.

_Thank __**you**__, Tony_.

* * *

"Looks good."

"Yep."

Father and son were gazing at the hot rod in Howard's workshop. A plethora of different tools lay around the car and along a worktop. A dull thrum of rain kneaded the roof. They'd just finished waxing and polishing the bonnet, which now glinted crimson in the luminescent lights overhead.

"So... it's done?" Tony questioned, looking sideways at his father.

"Yes – for now, that is. But this is the kind of thing you never really finish."

Tony raised his eyebrow, "Right...," he pursed his lips for a moment.

Howard smiled inwardly, secretly watching the gears turning in his son's head. He was a mix of his parents, but most strikingly resembled Howard, from the hair to the stocky stature – not to mention the mind-set. However his face was a little different; Howard's more angular facial features were softened by Maria's, the eyes a little rounder, the curves a little softer. He was glad their son looked like her; this way, some of his wife would live on through him.

Tony finally gave up trying to understand, "No, don't get it – _why _isn't it done yet?"

Howard chuckled, wiping his hands with an already oily rag, "Basically, we like it now, it's amazing – after all, it is Stark-made," he smirked, "But actually making it was more fun than the end product. You see what I'm saying?"

Tony nodded in affirmation. Howard continued, "Maybe later we decide we don't like the grilles, or the headlights, or the engine, or even the colour. Then we do it again, from the start if we want."

"...Yeah," Tony stared admiringly at the car.

Howard smiled and glanced at his Rolex before the smile dropped off. "Damn. I wanted to drop off the files for the BioGen project. It's already ten thirty."

He twisted his lips as he thought. "Maybe I could quickly nip down to the office and drop it off...?"

"Don't think that's such a good idea," Tony stated bluntly, his thumb curved at the window to their right.

Howard peered out into the darkened twilight. He frowned as the downpour showed no sign of relenting. He exhaled. "Guess it'll have to wait till tomorrow. I'll deal with Obie in the morning," he yawned, frowning for a second time, "We haven't had any dinner, have we?"

"Nope."

"How does...," he rubbed his eyes as he tried to recall what was in the kitchen, "...pasta sound?"

"Good...but take-out sounds better."

"...Alright then."

"Pizza?"

"Why not?"

"...and ice cream...?"

"Yeah, don't push your luck."

There were a couple of cartons of banoffee fudge in the freezer anyway.

* * *

There had been only a miniscule chance the weakness was not due to brain malfunction. That it was just 'one of those things'. That all he needed was time. Tony had beaten insurmountable odds and recovered. Howard, naturally, was overcome with joy and relief. He had been frightened that his son would be dependent on him forever, never able to truly live his own life or experience everything Howard had dreamed of showing him. Also, in the sad shameful way Howard's thoughts had been poisoned; that all Maria's efforts would have been for nothing. He would've loved his son, and cared for him, of course – but it could never have been what it was now. Fortunately for the both of them, the wheels of fate had turned in their favour.

It was just one of those things.

* * *

One small difference can mean a world of change.

It is in this world that Maria Stark lived. Unfortunately, the relationship between father and son does not.

In this universe, that rested side by side against the other, that same night in another Malibu, the rain still fell, hard and heavy. Howard and Maria Stark were taken in a fatal car accident, leaving Anthony Edward Stark an orphan at seventeen, embittered by their untimely deaths and an omnipresent distance, a coldness, that he had felt all his life.

A car sat in a darkened workshop with a thin film of dust clinging to the ruby metal, incomplete.

* * *

For the readers who found the first version difficult to comprehend, I've edited it as above. Voilà_. _Hopefully it is now satisfactorily clear :) If it isn't then let me know and I will edit again!_  
_

Yay, Tony's still a genius! The story will now switch to the movie verse...

Stay tuned, things are going to get messy... soon. If I get my act and my plot together.

As any writer, reviews are my fuel. Please drop me one if you enjoyed, or even if you didn't.

Good morning, I suppose.

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer (something really important I always seem to forget): Nothing is mine. Obviously.

* * *

**Okay, to clarify fully**: the first four chapters were the build up and description of my own imagined reality – an alternate reality. We now switch to the movie storyline. Tony and the other Avengers are recovering after Loki's attack on Earth. Both realities take part in this story.

* * *

Chapter 5

The present day, 9 months post the Chitauri Invasion.

Stark Tower, Manhattan, New York.

* * *

A truly irritating ringing shattered the comfortable silence of the room. "The time is oh nine hundred hours and the external temperature is–"

"Mute."

He exhaled deeply through his nose and propped himself up with one arm, rubbing his thumb and index finger into his eyes. You weren't supposed to feel _more _tired in the morning. It just wasn't right. He'd actually made a conscious effort to sleep more than usual, too. And since when did JARVIS wake him at such a God-forsaken hour? "Who, in the _heck, _set that alarm?"

"That would be me. Morning," Pepper smiled up at him.

"But it's a Saturday. You know, the day of rest."

"That's Sunday, Tony. And you've got a meeting at two tomorrow."

He moaned and slid back under the covers. "Hey, if you kept to the schedule during the week this wouldn't happen. Anyway, it was your idea," Pepper batted back, stretching her arms above her.

"Huh?" he peeked out at her.

She turned her head to the side to fix him with an unimpressed look. "Don't tell me you don't remember."

He straightened up where he lay and did what he knew best in the situation: bluff like hell. "Of course I remember – how could I forget? It's really important. It just takes time to gather your bearings so early in the morning. Give a guy some credit, Pep."

"Uh-huh."

They stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills. Or, when Tony would man up and admit he hadn't a clue. And he thought she didn't know when he was bluffing. Silly man.

"You don't know."

"...One clue?"

She gave a small groan. "Oh, I don't know, how about the second huge skyscraper jutting out of the New York skyline?"

His eyes lit up in understanding. _Ah, right. That important thing. _The second tower was really a replacement for the first one, which had only just been fully repaired. It was opening. Today. At one.

"God, Tony, even nine in the morning is a stretch. I expect us out of here by ten and ready for the press by twelve!"

"I knew that. It was there, in my subconscious. Not at the forefront, I'll admit, but definitely there," his face softened, "But can you really blame me for wanting to spend time with you?" He rubbed her arm gently.

She knew he was trying to weasel his way out of it, but she had been forced to pull together a press conference, an extra large security detail, permission from the board _and _fromS.H.I.E.L.D, all in one week. She wasn't going to go down so easily, even if a single touch was wearing down her defences so early in the morning. "Tony..."

"C'mon, Pep, doesn't it feel good? Just you...," he ran his slightly rough fingertips onto her shoulder, "And me...," they continued round to her clavicle, "...all–"

A thunderous crash reverberated around the tower as they grabbed the bedcovers and each other in fright. Emphasis on the word 'thunderous'.

Pepper recovered first. "Sounds like the others are up. Chop, chop, Mr. Stark," she said sweetly, before flouncing off of the bed and into the bathroom.

He sat up slightly dazed, sporting an impressive bed head and scowling. He just hoped that Clint got Hammer Time between the eyes for that.

* * *

"Okay, you know what you're going to say?"

"Yes."

She raised an eyebrow. "No Iron Man references, no controversial jokes and definitely NOT a single word about the alien invasion that almost wiped out Manhattan. Think you can manage that?"

He noted an almost undetectable flash of vulnerability in her eyes. He knew she hated what-ifs. He continued on in his usual cheery manner, hoping to lighten the mood.

"First of all, the correct term is 'Chitauri', or intergalactic ass-clowns. Secondly, the battle one was kind of obvious. But seriously – no Iron Man? That's, like, our unique selling point!"

"No, Tony. Green energy is our unique selling point," she responded smoothly whilst straightening his tie, their usual ritual for gathering composure before a big public presentation.

"Green, gold, red – they're all colours."

She stopped straightening and said in a warning voice, "Tony..."

"Fine, fine," he pouted, "You're just lucky I love you."

"_This _is lucky?"

"It's as good as you're going to get. I am trying," he replied, giving an award winning kicked-puppy impression.

"Get up there, Boss."

"Do I get a reward?" he asked over his dark Burberry suited shoulder.

"I hear there's a sale on dog biscuits down the road."

Natasha sauntered up to them as Pepper stifled a laugh and Tony narrowed his eyes. She was in smart suit attire because Fury had assigned her as Tony's main S.H.I.E.L.D chaperone for the occasion. There was always a risk, especially as Stark was the most publicised of the team, both before Iron Man and after. And tight leather battle gear didn't really fit into such a public event.

He strolled over to her, "Ah, if it isn't my favourite Russian lunatic."

Her face remained uninterested. He gave a friendly laugh. "You know I'm kidding!" he looked her up and down, "And those are some nice gloves. Pepper needs some. Do they come in women's sizes?" He queried sweetly.

It was her turn to narrow her eyes at him, "Like you can talk, fashion diva–"

"Okay, break it up. I think the director would appreciate it if Tony didn't appear in front of the public for the first time since the battle, mauled by a team member," Pepper reasoned.

"Fine. After," she pivoted on one heel expertly and murmured into her ear piece as she left, checking the perimeter with the numerous other agents situated around the building.

"Love you too," he called after her.

"You _need _leave her alone, for your own safety," she admonished, before panicking at her watch, "Okay, now you have ten seconds. Go. Now."

He laughed and finally made his way up. The platform was positioned in the middle of the foyer. The majority of the large room was composed of cream marble. A few exotic plants with spiky olive green leaves sat along the edges of the room. There were two wide pillars with cream carpet leading up to them from the entrance, swirled with pale blue. The front corners of the foyer on either side of the carpet consisted of neutral leather furniture surrounding glass coffee tables.

Behind the platform was the reception, manned by a few smartly uniformed employees answering calls and doing other professional-looking things for the tower's big unveiling. The reception was backed by a towering wall, which concealed a number of office areas. Further into the building a large reinforced lab could be found (by those authorised only, of course) containing the Arc Reactor which was powering every appliance in the tower.

Tony cast his eyes over the substantial crowd that was sitting and standing in front of him. Most were press associates, the minority were a few business leaders, investors and board members. He cleared his throat as the buzz died down. "First of all; thank you for coming. The second in our line of green initiatives, I am proud to present the Stark Tower, the new headquarters for Stark Industries," he paused for dramatic effect as a chorus of murmurs and 'oohs' and 'aahs' gently echoed and cameras clicked and flickered.

"Its predecessor, of which many of you are familiar," how could they _not _be, "Is now a private office building for the company. As for the 'green' side of this venture, you may or may not know that every last joule of energy used in this building is sourced from our patented Arc Reactor technology. It is carbon emission free and pollutant free, making the Stark Towers the only of their kind around today. That is, unless we build another," he smirked, like any other company could pull _this _off.

His closing remark elicited a small ripple of laughter. Sensing the end of the discourse, a dozen or so reporters burst into life, beginning an onslaught of questions. Tony was used to it, and attempted to handle them with as much poise and careful thought as he could muster, recalling Pepper's doleful eyes.

The first few went down with relative ease, such as: "Mr. Stark, you claim that the building is one hundred per cent eco-friendly, but there must be _some _form of harmful by-products somewhere along the line," to which he replied, "Apart from the materials from which the building and Reactor were constructed from, which is inevitable, there are none, as I said. If you want further proof, go check with the Environmental Protection Agency. They can give you all the charts and data you want."

This went on for several minutes, until Tony spied someone he really didn't want a single word from. Pristine and primped as usual, Christine Everhart sat demurely in her seat, lost in a sea of faces until Tony could physically feel the ice of her gaze and in her determined voice. After everything she had done, it still didn't seem like enough for her. It was like she wanted to see him fall, hard. But hey, didn't everyone?

Even though he actively sought to avoid any question she may have, it still got through, as though the others knew that it was one to listen for. Her lips quirked triumphantly. "Mr. Stark, Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair."

He pursed his lips. "Yes, we_ have_ spoken before."

She smiled deviously, _yeah, more than spoken,_ "Of course, so I'll get straight to the heart of the matter. I'm sure what we'd all like to know, is exactly what this technology is capable of. You have had first-hand experience. Please tell us; what _else _can it do?"

He was thrown slightly. Some people had picked up what she was trying to insinuate. This incredible new power source, practically too good to be true, is in the hands of arguably the most powerful man in the world, ignoring the military. The fascinating coincidence was that this man also happened to be a superhero. A superhero whose strength lay in a gold-titanium exoskeleton of astonishing robotics, far beyond the dreams of any of his rivals, be they business men or criminals.

Some up-close photographs had revealed the triangular core in the thorax of the suit, which some ignored as simply an aesthetic detail in the design, while most concluded it was some sort of battery. More recently, the second theory was gaining alarming support, along with the increased publicity of the Arc Reactor technology.

The coin was beginning to drop and in all honesty, Tony was struggling to catch it.

He sculpted his expression into one of gentle amusement, which didn't fail in confusing the blonde haired devil. "Powering the ninety-three story headquarters of a global company? That's as pretty damn big as you can get, don't you think?"

He was concentrating so hard on shielding the Reactor from those will ill intent and by extension the public, that he didn't notice the unease in the faces of the agents around the room. Natasha's restlessness. Pepper's face, a cocktail of apprehension and confusion.

Everhart's eyes glinted darkly, "I agree. That is very impressive, none of us can deny that."

He grimaced. She was planting a seed, the growth of which she would not be able to control – and when better to do it than in front the entire country, if not the world?

"But I think we both know what the very first project to use Arc Reactor technology was – or _is_, should I say."

The room was unexpectedly quiet, only a gentle swell of hushed whispers undulating beneath the deafening tension. He was about to react with a biting retort when the room began to shudder violently.

* * *

Dun-dun-dun! Cliff-hanger. Sorry guys. Hope the introduction of this reality was good. I know the previous chapter really confused a lot of people, if you still don't get it feel free to leave a review/PM me and I'll explain.

And finally, thanks! I've got 45 alerts for this and a whole bunch o' people have made it a favourite, which fills me with happy butterflies.

As always, I shall shamelessly let you know that reviews are more than welcome here.

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	6. Chapter 6

**A big thank you to everyone who took the time to tell me how they felt about the plotline.**

According to the poll and the reviews/PMs I received, the majority would like to see BOTH realities in this story. While I admit that many readers did want only one involved, I think that both would simply be more fun because at some point (I'm sure you already know this!) members of the different realities would meet.

Therefore, I have decided that both realities will feature in this story.

However if it consoles any of you, I may write a prequel/sequel of some sort focussing on only the imagined reality...

Now that my incessant rambling has come to an end, please enjoy this chapter.

* * *

_Movie-verse_

* * *

Chapter 6

Tony stumbled forwards slightly in an attempt to keep his balance, whilst his mind buzzed with frantic calculations involving the strength of the framework in the building, the weight and force required to break it – and how fast he could get to the suit. He scrambled up and jumped straight off of the front of the platform, landing as soundly as he could with the shaking tilting his vision. He helped up a young reporter and yelled, "Everyone get out! Through the front, come on, quick!" he hurried the man along and hunted the area around him madly for Pepper.

She was across the room, gripping onto the back of a sofa to keep herself upright whilst calling out to the running people, pointing out the escapes and checking in on the employees, one hand clamping her phone to her ear in an iron-grip. _She is just too damn noble for her own good, _Tony thought, as he darted through the chairs and slid an arm around her back to pull her away and out.

That is, until the shuddering stopped.

They both held onto each other tensely and they eyes darted around the room. The guests paused in their escape. They were all hunched over, as if they were waiting for the roof to bury them. He straightened up slowly.

"What. The. Hell."

* * *

"_The second most awaited opening of the year from Stark Industries will definitely be one to remember. In the wake of the previous tower's dilapidation during the chaos earlier on in the year, many were hoping Tony Stark would rise from the ashes with another ambitious project._

_Ambitious: yes. Successful: not quite. Those present got quite a shock when the unit powering the tower malfunctioned. According to witnesses, the building began to shake and people were thrown from their seats during the opening ceremony. This has plunged the famously all-green Arc Reactor technology into question; what dangers could it be hiding? And how can we allow it to remain on our streets?..."_

"Mute."

The far too jovial newsreader continued to mouth the words to his humiliation as Tony rubbed his face, suddenly so very tired, "Damn..."

The Arc Reactor malfunctioning? Impossible. He had checked it himself a week ago. When he checked it again after the press debacle he had found that the pressure gage was through the roof. All he could put it down to was some lower ranked techie thinking they were all it and messing with the settings. But even then, it took a lot to mess with the Arc Reactor. They must've been pretty damn stupid to get it that badly wrong – which was why Tony felt so uneasy. Nobody could've made such catastrophic mistakes by accident. However the other engineers in the team had told him that they hadn't picked up on anything untoward when they examined the internal workings on the unit. Everything seemed fine.

If anything, it was probably just Tony's paranoia rearing its ugly head. It had been doing it more frequently since the Manhattan incident. He groaned, frustrated.

Clint sauntered into the room and stopped when he noticed Tony's fractious expression, "I guess you've heard the news then."

"How could I have _not_ heard?" Tony replied exasperatedly.

"Cool your jets, 'Man of Iron'. We don't even know what the problem is yet. Even the experts on Asgard don't have a clue."

Tony looked up, perplexed. "What's Asgard got to do with this?"

Clint frowned. "It does belong to them, y'know."

Tony shot up. "Sounds like someone's scrambled your eggs, Bird-brain."

Clint held his hands up, "Wait a sec. What are _you _talking about, 'cause it sure as hell isn't what _I'm _talking about."

"The Arc. You?"

He sighed grimly, "So you don't know."

"Yeah, we've established that. What _is _it?"

"The Tesseract's gone haywire. Apparently a couple of days after Thor got back up to Asgard, it started doing weird things. Spitting out blue sparks, shaking, stuff they've never seen before. They sent it back down and Fury had it collected. It's waiting in the lab for you and the Doc to take a look."

"If you haven't noticed – I've got my own problems here."

"I know. And Nat's working on it. But Banner needs your help."

"Fury, you mean," Tony quipped, his head lolling back on the sofa.

Clint turned to make his way out, grinning. "Whatever. Besides, you science buddies love a good challenge..."

* * *

It seemed that problems came all together when it came to Tony Stark. Life was all sunshine and roses one day and a firestorm of stress and frustration the next. Everything had been going so well. He was part of the Avengers (finally); the company was making leaps and bounds (had been); and he and Pepper were... great, actually. He was pleasantly surprised that his love life was the least problematic area of his life at the present moment. However that light thought was weighed down when he realised she would demand an explanation for the whole _catastrophic_ event,and yet again be the unlucky one saddled with the burden of handling the heat from the press.

He grumbled internally as he descended in the elevator. When he arrived at the labs Bruce was bending over a screen, squinting at the readings. He was frowning and absent-mindedly shaking his head. This couldn't be good.

"Hi, Tony," he murmured, still concentrated on figuring out the readings before him.

"Hey," Tony replied, toying with a hyper sensitive drill they used to build some of the apparatus now in use in the lab, "Feathers told me the Tesseract's been acting up."

"Unfortunately, yes. And what's worse, is that I'm no closer than he is."

Bruce stretched back up, hands resting on his hips. He was tired – but he loved a good problem. That was why he became a scientist. Things didn't happen without reason; they always had a particular purpose, especially things to do with the natural world. There was no such thing as a superfluous process, from the minutest cell to human beings – efficiency was key.

Tony walked over to inspect the readings himself and frowned. "I can't see a pattern."

"No, me neither. I just don't get it. There should be some correlation," Bruce rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, "The only other explanation is that they're just natural fluctuations, but according to Thor none of the vault keepers or his father had noticed such strong instability before."

"You think it's because it was away from Asgard for so long?"

"No, I don't think homesickness is the problem here."

"Then again, opening a vortex in the sky might've had some effect, don't you think?"

Bruce stopped in his train of thought for a moment, looking up. "Exactly… maybe the sudden ejection of energy had an effect. Maybe it was in some sort of dormant state after being in Asgard for so long? Loki's little trip might've activated it."

"So they're just aftershocks? We could build a containment facility. Well, a better one. I don't plan on taking a journey to the centre of the Earth any time soon."

Tony pulled up the blueprints of the Tesseract's previous accommodation. Now as stable and vital members of S.H.I.E.L.D's defence and science department, they were no longer required to hack to obtain the relevant data (not that it was that hard to do anyway). Of course, if Fury was ever shifty about a particular case, Tony could just as easily access the more restricted parts of the system, expert technicians be damned.

He was peering at the structural components, head lopsided, when he noticed Bruce lost in thought, still racking his brain for a link, a clue. Tony smiled; Bruce shared his determination, but also the mental capacity to put that determination to good use. He was probably the only person who was on the same page as him intellectually. His father didn't count. Half the time Tony had felt like he and his father were worlds apart. While Howard shined amongst the stars Tony was ignored and left fumbling on the ground, unable to get a hold on his own life.

Bruce didn't get irritated quite as quickly as everyone else either. That was a big plus too.

"Earth to Banner, come in Banner," Tony said, still poring over the blueprints and grinning.

"Yeah? Oh, I was just… thinking. The results look strange. As though they're showing a reaction."

"…Reaction…?" Tony looked away from the glowing blue strokes of light hovering in front of his face.

He took off his glasses to wipe them with the hem of his shirt, "Yeah, like something happened to the Tesseract, and the readings are showing its response to the event," he replaced his glasses and sighed, "The only thing is – we have no idea what that event was."

* * *

There you have it. I really hope you'll all keep reading, because there's still plenty to come on the AU.

Unfortunately I won't be updating for at least a week and a half because I'm heading south for a week-long summer school in medicine. I'll have to do homework there too so I'll have literally no time to update.

Sorry guys

Please keep reading! (and reviewing...)

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	7. Chapter 7

I'm dreadfully late, I know. All that I can do is apologise. Please enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 7

**Alternate Universe**

The Present Day

Stark Industries High Security Research and Development Compound

* * *

Every scientist, technician and engineer in the vast lab ducked for cover as another tremendous rumble thundered around the room. It reverberated through the thick walls and down through the floor and gradually dissipated, leaving a gentle hum in its wake. They peeked up over the worktops and benches towards the instigator.

Howard himself appeared more invigorated than shaken. He pushed back his (admittedly stylish) goggles and wandered over to the objects in question, no longer bothering to check if his hair was singed. He and the team currently surrounding him had been at it for months, running test after test and conducting one experiment after another. Each slight... mishap simply brought him closer to the desired result.

The harmonious coupling of the Arc Reactor and the mysterious blue box from beneath the sea.

He peered through thick glass into the chamber. The blue box flashed in rebellion, as did Howard's Arc. He brought his hand to his chin and rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully. This time there had been less resistance, it seemed; gradually the energy between the two sources was flowing more smoothly. He turned away from the chamber and headed up the metal steps towards the control panel, manned by several apprehensive technicians.

"Alright. That'll do for today. We'll continue with the trials tomorrow morning, at nine," he projected around the lab, "Make sure you're chipper and ready to go."

He left through a tightly sealed air lock door and made his way up to a large room one floor up, with large windows overlooking the lab. The chamber occupied the centre and focus of the lab. It was disproportionately large when compared to the size of the objects within, and had dozens of tubes and leads emerging from its solid steel reinforced base. Howard collapsed into a large padded desk chair and loosened his tie. Even after roughly twenty years since his son graduated from MIT (he'd never been prouder) Howard's intellectual thirst hadn't waned. Since finding the mysterious box during refreshed efforts to retrieve the wreckage of Steve's plane, it had been sitting deep in the holding vaults of S.H.I.E.L.D. Two months prior, Howard had an epiphany and ordered its transfer to a more remote and guarded facility at Stark Industries. At that point, The Alliance Project was born, and only the most highly skilled scientists had been drafted in from all over Stark Industries and around the world. All were bound by a secrecy contract.

The progress so far was slow and steady. Starks by nature didn't do 'slow and steady'. This fact was further proven as Howard's sole son waltzed through the door, with a trailing Miss. Potts behind him.

"Tony! Miss. Potts," he nodded gallantly towards his long suffering assistant.

"Dad." Tony grinned, flopping down into a sleek black leather chair.

"Mr. Stark." Pepper greeted, ever the professional, choosing to remain standing.

"So how did the meeting go with Haussmann Corp?"

Tony had flown to Germany early that morning to negotiate a large sale to the company, and the possibility of further sales each year. Haussmann Corp was a giant in raw material extraction in Germany, and such deals formed the foundations of useful business relationships. Tony now took care of all international relations, as the company had ballooned over the years since Tony had joined and it was a load off of his father's shoulders. That, and Howard was getting on in his years and worked best at home in New York while Tony flew around the globe promoting and upholding the business.

"Great – managed to squeeze an extra two shipments into the deal."

"Good, good." Howard commended as he pulled up his email account on a hand held screen.

When Tony hit his twenties Howard officially made him his second in command. There had been some fear niggling at the corner of his mind up until then. What if Tony didn't want to simply fall into the family business? What if wanted more freedom? ...What if he wanted to leave? Howard could barely contain his relief when he realised that the passion he held for his work and his company was reflected in his son. Tony loved to build, invent and explore, just like his father. But not only that, Tony had joined him at S.H.I.E.L.D a little while later, stating that he 'couldn't possibly _not _get involved in this totally badass spy gig'. He had been particularly eager during his teens, the idea of daring escapades and worldwide espionage more alluring than meetings and paperwork.

It went without saying that Howard had been just a little apprehensive about Tony even knowing about S.H.I.E.L.D's existence, let alone being a part of it. Especially since his son was a prime target for those in S.H.I.E.L.D's bad books. Nevertheless, he ensured Tony was fully adept in a decent level of self defence and fire arms control, and had him made a member of the organisation albeit not an active one. He was now, actually, a valuable asset to its day to day running, helping to keep in contact with the active supervisors and planning courses of action with the more serious cases, of which thankfully there had not been many.

Howard could not be less amazed at the maturity and intelligence with which Tony handled things. Then again, he couldn't be less amazed at how quickly his mature and intelligent child reverted to a snarky adolescent within the space of a few seconds.

Pepper narrowed her eyes at Tony, who simply smirked back. She pressed her lips into a thin line and rolled her eyes. "Want to explain _how _you squeezed them in...?" she muttered.

Howard glanced between them from behind his screen.

"Through delicate and charming negotiation, how else?" He responded coolly, as he scrolled through designs on his phone.

"So that's what you call it. Where I come from it's called _shameless flirting. _Not to mention that if the managing director hadn't taken it so well you could've completely destroyed relations between-"

"-Hey, I sealed the deal didn't I?"

"By telling her the 'gleam from the projector brought out the silver in her eyes'?" Pepper mocked him in a sarcastic voice.

Tony opened his mouth to object.

"Gambling a fifty million dollar deal for an extra twenty _was _a little risky, Tony." Howard cut in, still scanning his emails.

Tony's head snapped towards his father's. "...You know about-"

"Pepper dropped me an email during the meeting when she thought you were going to deliver Stark Industries to Hell in a hand basket."

Tony looked back at the red head, incredulous, "You told my Dad on me?"

She gave him a triumphant 'damn straight' look before picking her BlackBerry from her pocket to check the week's schedule. He looked back to his father.

"Well it was nowhere near as bad as she made out. You know how she can exaggerate. After all, she is your assistant. Come to that, why did you send her with me anyway? As an emergency wet blanket?" he said as he glanced at her, relishing the poorly hidden irritation on her features.

Howard put his tablet down. "Whether you agree or not, you two actually make a half decent team." They looked up at their boss.

"You're a smooth talker Tony, a good businessman, but with her organisation and advice you could be great. I've been sending her with you more often recently because her skills aren't really needed as much at the office – more out there on the front line to rein you in."

Pepper blushed at the compliment while Tony paused, a little taken by surprise at the honest gesture. Howard closed his email account, satisfied with what he had read as Tony murmured, "Right."

Howard sat a little straighter, as if to 'get down to business' and continued. "But if she really gets to you that much," Howard didn't miss the torn look on his son's face, "Then you'll be pleased to know that there's someone else you can spend your time with; you now have a partner at S.H.I.E.L.D."

He allowed them time to give themselves whiplash in their shock and for Tony to babble, "What!? Since when did I, the boss' son, have a partner?"

"As of right now. He's actually caused quite a bit of trouble and has been made a temporary agent so we can keep an eye on him and he can pay his debts to society – or whatever."

Tony shook his head in confusion, "And somehow your twisted logic decided that the best person to pair this _criminal _up with is me?"

Howard pursed his lips for a moment, "Pretty much. Like I said, this way we can keep an eye on him. Also, he's got some very... unique skills that could be put to a lot of good use. You never know, he might be helpful to you."

"Yeah, maybe he can do my tax returns whilst he's _disembowelling me_."

Howard shook his head fondly at his son's dramatics as Pepper quirked an eyebrow.

"Fine, whatever." Tony conceded, "So what do I call this whack-job?"

"Definitely not 'whack-job'. His name's Loki. Not quite sure of the surname yet, bit of a sore subject apparently."

Tony pulled a face, suddenly recalling a level seven case report from his S.H.I.E.L.D work. "Loki?! The nutcase that threw a tantrum and let an over sized fire-breathing chess piece loose on New Mexico? That Loki?"

"The very one. But don't worry, I won't let him go 'Dungeons and Dragons' on you... unless you almost destroy our company's reputation again."

"But I really don't need a partner."

"Sure you do. Who better to keep _his _eye on my wayward son than the God of Mischief himself?"

* * *

LOKI! Woop woop.

Anyway.

Like I said, I'm super late. All I can say in my defence is that the day after I got back from my summer school, fasting started. Seriously, not eating or drinking for almost eighteen hours makes fanfic writing a tad difficult.

Especially when you start fantasising about donuts instead of RDJ when you're watching Ironman 2...

However, reviews provide motivation, so lots of reviews mean quicker updates! Also, please let me know if you actually liked it or not.

Till next time, cool people,

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to everyone who reviewed - I appreciate it a lot.

I quite like this chapter, so hopefully you will too.

* * *

Chapter 8

**Alternate Universe**

The Present Day

Stark Industries, New York

* * *

He drummed his long pale fingers on the desk top in irritation. He couldn't believe he was sitting in a waiting room on Midgard of all places, now a member of arguably their largest security force (measly compared to the warriors of Asgard), waiting for an even more measly _mortal_. His _partner_. Perhaps he was imagining it all. Maybe the countless images of Thor's adventures on Midgard he had observed from the palace were now being distorted and meshed together to produce an alternate world to distract him from the pain of falling from the Bifröst...

"Y'know, for a God and all, you don't seem very...," Tony gestured vaguely up and down, "_Godly_."

Having been in the man's presence for barely ten seconds, Loki had already decided that they weren't going to get along. This man must have serious mental ailments to address him in such a way.

Tony considered the pallid man's attire; black suit, including a waistcoat and tie. Dark hair which only served to make him look even more sickly. Look out, ladies.

"Tony Stark - but you already knew that," he brandished his hand out for Loki to shake.

The demigod took it gingerly. "Pleasure," he said, his lip curling.

"It always is," Tony smirked, looking around the room, "Right, let's get this show on the road. I'll give you a quick tour and then we'll do some introductions. Pepper's been dying to meet you."

Loki stood up and followed the shorter man out of the room, trying to wrap his head around the concept of greeting vegetables, and murder whilst on parole.

* * *

"I honestly think we have a major breakthrough here, Obie," Howard looked at his business partner earnestly, "The scale of energy we could produce would be unparalleled. All the things we could do... We could even become an energy provider - the greenest one around. Think about it. No more dependence on foreign oil, therefore cheaper prices, therefore happy citizens and even happier government officials. And even less fighting. We'd be the biggest company since... Scratch that, we'd be the biggest company _ever _full stop. Not that we aren't already, of course."

Howard leaned back in his chair, content, supporting an elegant Parker pen between his index fingers. Obadiah simply smiled and shook his head.

"C'mon, let's not run away with this. According to you we can't even be sure that the bonding is stable yet. Could just be a fluke."

He held up his hands in surrender as Howard opened his mouth to object. "Now I'll agree that this could be incredible, you're right. But we have to broach this carefully. If we get as far as eliminating dependence on foreign oil-"

"-_When _we get that far-"

"-There. Will. Be. Consequences. Repercussions. Not everyone's going to be so happy, for example the people who sell us that oil. Now if we left the prices as they are, or even hike them up a bit, and paid the right people, we could-"

"-Obie, no. I-" Howard rubbed his fingers across his brow and looked back up at his friend, "I understand where you're going with this. But no. I'd rather we kept things as simple as possible. As _clean _as possible."

Obadiah held up his hands once more. "Just a suggestion," he glanced at his wristwatch, "And with that, it's almost time for my meeting."

He pushed himself up from his chair and turned to the door. "Just don't reject it straight off," he paused for a moment, before fixing Howard with a look, "The world isn't as innocent as it makes out to be Howie. You either play the martyr card and let yourself fall - or you play smart."

The door closed behind him with a gentle click. Howard rubbed his face again.

* * *

The Biogenetics Division was an impressive expanse of chrome and control panels and worktops and wonders. Tony shrugged on a white lab coat, which Loki assumed he also must do, and led him down some steel steps towards a brunette leant over a microscope. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, while some tendrils escaped onto her forehead. Tony turned to him, "This is Maya Hansen. She's head of our Biogenetics Division. Pretty smart, even by my standards-" he leaned closer, "Don't think she's harmless, though."

She straightened up and grinned at him. "Gosh, Tony, stop corrupting my first impression!"

She turned her eyes to the stranger beside him. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," she held out her hand as Loki shook it, "You here to keep a leash on the Boss' son?"

Tony jumped in, "Hey, who told you? And he's not keeping a leash on me", he added quickly.

"Pepper might've said something. And besides, I'd find out anyway."

Loki had the pleasure of meeting Pepper around half an hour ago. She had politely offered help and advice when it came to living arrangements, S.H.I.E.L.D tasks, and of course, Tony-taming. He kept the last one especially in mind.

Tony resumed his summary. "She works on developing our biotechnology, as well as other research."

"Yeah, Tony's area of expertise is more like nuts and bolts."

"Hey, it's a lot more than just that."

"Wires, too."

"I think we should move on from here now."

Maya simply laughed. "Well I'll see you around then."

She looked at the other man again. "I never actually got your name. Tony tends to get distracted."

"Loki. My name is Loki."

"Loki, cool. I'll see you around then, too, I suppose."

Tony and Loki left the labs and headed towards S.H.I.E.L.D to get Loki settled in with the new workload. On the way in the car, Tony spoke more about the company and the people they had met.

"I met Maya near the end of my degree at MIT. She transferred to finish her research project so we ran into each other in the labs a lot. Me, her and Rhodey - you'll meet him later - we did loads of stuff together. They helped to keep me on the straight and narrow. But half the time Maya was just as much trouble." Tony grinned at the memory of Rhodey trying to put out a lab fire the two had created accidently-on-purpose (it had been in the name of science, naturally).

"Pepper is actually my Dad's assistant. We just do a lot of work that means we need to be together a lot, meetings, press conferences, international stuff, etc etc. She is the epitome of everything good and decent and thoroughly organised. Meaning, we'd probably go bankrupt within a day without her."

"Your father did not appear as... capricious as yourself."

"Oh believe me, he has his moments. Like this, for example," he gestured between them.

"Indeed."

"So...," Tony gave him a sideways look, "What about at your end? How did they agree so easily?"

Loki stiffened slightly, which Tony didn't fail to notice from beside him on the leather upholstery.

"The Allfather surrendered the remainder of my punishment to the authority on Midgard. He believed that I should repay my debts to your society how they deemed appropriate to restore my honour and that of Asgard."

He spoke in clipped tones, indicating that the subject was raw at best. Tony recognised his need for space. He felt the same when people asked him about his mother. The rest of the journey passed in silence.

* * *

He loosened his tie as he poured a scotch, mulling over the day, the past, and the tenuous future. Ever since Tony had been born, Howard had changed. It had been only little things at first. Actually turning up to Christmas parties, pushing biotech, making more business relations. But as soon as Tony could toddle, Howard had gone into super-daddy overdrive, teaching him maths and letting him wander around his workshop (to which even Obadiah wasn't granted access to, let alone a five year old).

Slowly, so slowly even his business partner and best friend hadn't noticed, weapons manufacture had been disappearing from their agenda. Obadiah cursed himself for allowing that to happen. But it had really taken the cake when Tony had entered the company. Bit by bit, he had pushed Obadiah to the outskirts, while father and son reaped the benefits of such a media friendly image.

But wait, that wasn't the worst of it after all. Howard was turning into a weak skulled pacifist, pumping up green energy like there was no tomorrow. But there'd always be a tomorrow. A tomorrow where foreign dictatorships endangered their country and controlled it through its massive fuel consumption. A tomorrow where terrorists stole and threatened and murdered to seize power.

A tomorrow that Obadiah would have to show Howard, one way or another.

* * *

Dun-dun-dun.

As always, review to tell me how you feel so far and a chapter shall appear.

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	9. Chapter 9

It's been a while, I know, but my university application has been my top priority for the last few months, unfortunately.

Here you go, folks.

* * *

Chapter 9

**Normal Universe**

The Present Day

The Avengers Tower

* * *

Steve sighed. Sometimes, he still couldn't believe that he was alive and well in the twenty-first century. That he was sitting in undoubtedly one of the most luxurious buildings ever crafted (albeit ugly) alongside a mix of contrasting individuals from all walks of life (immortality, whatever) and that they all, somehow, identified themselves as 'heroes'.

He sighed again. Natasha was in the process of trying to burn a hole through Tony's head using only the power of sight. It theoretically shouldn't be possible, yet Steve worried for the man's safety anyway. Tony continued to defend himself for the fiasco at the unveiling of the new tower.

"...When I left that lab everything was perfect. Just like me."

"And just like you, something went wrong," Natasha quipped.

Tony was about to deliver a comeback when Bruce (thankfully) intervened.

"I cross checked the reports from the lab and the technicians confirmed that everything was in correct working order _before _Tony left. After the quake the energy output was through the roof."

Tony quirked his head as if to say: _'See?'_

Steve jumped in, "So... what do you think the problem was?"

Bruce crossed his arms and shrugged. He reminded Steve of a shrew, or some other creature that curled into themselves when threatened. "We don't really know at this stage. It could've been some random fluctuation, or human error or even a loose connection."

"JARVIS monitors every square millimetre of that lab. If the techie inside the mainframe gear box scratched his ass we would know about it," Tony added.

So it couldn't have been from outside sources. Steve frowned as Tony and Bruce began to trade scientific theories on how the central processing unit might have automatically increased the voltage to counteract the- whatever. He stood up, bade everyone an eventless night and headed to bed.

He actually had to go down a floor as opposed to going up as he was used to (and no doubt most of America was used to). He marvelled internally as the elevator descended. Tony had really gone all out on making sure that the Avengers' Tower was just right for each and every one of them. There were gyms, kitchens, pools, games rooms – and a nice solid bedroom for Bruce. Tony had apparently thought of another one for Thor, but realised that the demigod's very human and very breakable girlfriend would be bound to visit at some point, and Thor would never do anything that would damage the room. Especially with said girlfriend.

There was one teeny tiny problem. The sheer number of rooms sometimes made it incredibly difficult to find your own when tired and/or beaten up. Steve realised this problem as he slowed his walk and realised that he didn't know where his bedroom was. He had only been there for a few months now, and his room had to be changed when one of Tony (and Clint's) pranks had gone terribly wrong and singed half of his left eyebrow off. He didn't think that he could handle wandering back to the rest like a five year old and admitting he couldn't find his way to bed. He decided to try a couple of doors. The first two were unused bedrooms, each with neutral colour schemes. Steve assumed that an interior designer (or Pepper) had gone for them. Tony and neutral didn't seem to mix.

It was the third room, however, that screamed Tony. Just not the side that Steve expected.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the room that surprised him. It opened up onto a set of stairs that dropped down another floor and joined up to the side of one of Tony's numerous workshops. Steve poked his head inside. He shouldn't be surprised that beyond the bottom of the stairs was a thick glass wall requiring code activation. He wandered up to it and licked his lips. He glanced from side to side. He really shouldn't be here. Why was he here again? Ah yes, curiosity. He was about to retreat when the wall beeped. It allowed him access. Of course, because he was an Avenger. Only Tony's main workshop was fully restricted. He swallowed and entered hesitantly. On the surface it looked like your average mad genius' workshop.

He walked along and ran his hand across a gleaming chrome worktop. He was too tired to really be interested in the gadgets and machines. When in the right frame of mind, nothing was more fascinating. He would never admit this to the Tony, though; his ego was swollen enough already. He turned to leave, but stopped when he noticed something sticking out of a door to a storeroom. It was metallic, but worn. Rough scrapes marred the once smooth silver. A large dent disfigured the gentle curvature of the piece. Steve recognised it straightaway, as crude as the design was.

It was a shield. His shield. Well, not exactly _his _shield. It looked like an old half-built replica. Why did Tony have it? He pulled back the heavy reinforced door with super-powered ease and stood in awe of the contents. There were large circuit boards and other incomplete or unused machinery piled up here and there, obscuring two crumpled scraps stuck haphazardly on the walls. One had come away from the wall and hung awkwardly at an angle.

It showed Howard, standing proud and erect in front of the American flag, with the caption _'Paving the way to a brighter future.' _Steve had to concentrate to notice the jet fighters flying in perfect arrangement behind his old friend's head. The other was of a more mature Howard, with whom Steve assumed was Tony. The facial features were there, and were accompanied by a baby smooth face and a mop of dark hair. What Steve noticed was that Howard wasn't quite beside Tony. He was standing away slightly. There was no fatherly hand on his shoulder, no warm smile directed at him. Only the camera. It was a picture Steve had seen before, whilst researching his teammates in an attempt to adjust to his new life. He had never seen it in this light before.

He felt wrong, like he had walked into Tony's mind without permission and was rooting through long forgotten memories like newspaper coupons. He really ought to leave. He fingered the shield he was holding. Most of it had worn with time.

"You can keep it, if you want."

Steve jerked and almost yelped in shock. "I- I was just-"

"Seriously. It means nothing to me." Tony leant against the side of the doorframe, far too relaxed.

Steve regained his military composure. "I honestly did not mean to intrude. I just saw it... and came in."

Tony shrugged. "Sure, whatever. And by the way, your room's been moved again," his eyes darkened, "It's my fault really. It should never have been put underneath a lab."

His fault...? He turned abruptly and left the lab. Steve struggled to catch up. "Tony, wait-"

"If you ever need a chaperone – just ask. Okay, Spangles?"

"Tony, if you ever need to talk..."

"Night, night, Cap."

The door slid shut with a hiss behind him.

Steve stopped and stood there, looking through the glass as Tony nimbly bounded up the stairs. He blew out through his mouth and tipped his head back to the ceiling. He was still holding the shield. He looked down at it and spun it around a few times. A new detail caught his eye. Engraved onto the edge of the rim, at the back, was a small sentence.

"_Anthony, aspire to greatness, as did one soldier."_

Steve stood, shocked. Howard had _made _this for Tony when he was a child. Tony had been spoon-fed the ideal of a perfect person, a perfect hero. Something a young boy could never live up to.

And neither could Steve.

* * *

Okaayy. Little unsure with this.

If you feel sorry for either Steve, Tony, both or neither – please review :P

Til next time,

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	10. Chapter 10

I'm on a roll. However the next update will probably take some time, but with good reason!

* * *

Chapter 10

Alternate Universe

The Stark Mansion,

Malibu

* * *

"You know what, you're lucky that she isn't paying any attention to you. That is _not _a flattering look."

Tony wheeled out from under one of the cars in his workshop. He frowned at his father. "What?"

"That." He threw a damp cloth at his face with a satisfying _schlop_, "And those jeans – can you even call them jeans?" Howard prided himself on being a sharp dresser and those trousers were offending him.

"I-hv-noida-wt-yr-tak-bt." Tony rubbed his face and the offending smear of tar became somewhat less noticeable.

"Excuse me?"

"I said: I have no idea what you're talking about. Who's not paying attention? I have plenty anyway."

Tony's last romantic engagement had been a two month long relationship with Claire James from R&D. They ended it five months ago after his very irregular work schedule and particular quirks didn't quite gel with her gentle sensibilities. Plus, she was a little boring. But even before then, Tony's feelings for Pepper had been obvious to his father, even when his son wasn't aware of them himself. Unfortunately, his assistant's incredibly rigid principles had prevented her from showing more than friendly – and utterly professional – appreciation for Tony's work. (Not his work _ethic_, mind you).

Howard raised an eyebrow as he watched his son pull out an exhaust pipe with particular gusto. "Honestly, that's the best deflection you can come up with? During the time in which your mother was, ahem, resisting the natural Stark charm, I had plenty of techniques up my sleeve to turn a situation around," he noticed Tony's cringing, "...Something which seems to have skipped a generation."

He frowned again. _As if_. Howard continued to irrit– advise his son. "I've decided graciously to lend you a helping hand in that department– and I've got an idea."

"Oh, God." He made to disappear under the emerald convertible but Howard grabbed his leg and pulled him back out.

"Hear me out on this one. Y'know that charity do tonight?"

"Oh, Dad, no, come on! I can't dealwith whiny old bags and whiny campaigners and-"

"Did I mention that Miss. Potts is accompanying me tonight?"

"Well, duh. Can't trust you with whisky in one hand and a cheque book in the oth-"

Howard looked at him pointedly. Tony coughed, "Em, go on."

"_You_ will go in my place. It'll be nice if you show your face at these things more," Tony grimaced, "And I think that Miss. Potts will appreciate seeing the more... mature side to Tony Stark. It won't be so bad. Drinks and dancing..."

"You are a cruel man."

"You'll thank me at the end of the night. Or tomorrow morning."

"Dad, please! There are some parts of your child's life you just don't get involved in!"

"So you don't want to go? Fine."

"...Fine."

"Okay then."

"Yes."

Halfway up the stairs Tony relented and accepted that there wouldn't be many opportunities like the one his father had presented to him fully formed.

Howard heard him shout from the bottom of the stairs: "Fine, I'll go! But only if you don't get involved again, and only if I can leave the pet at home!"

"Aw, I don't think Loki would appreciate that! Maybe he should go anyway – you need a wing-man don't you?"

Howard laughed up the stairs as Tony threw a spanner at the glass wall behind him.

* * *

Tony juggled a few apples by the bar as JARVIS let Pepper in. Howard was reclining in a coffee leather chair, poring over his StarkPad. He used it to hide his grin as Pepper entered the room and the apples (predictably) went all over the bar. She certainly looked stunning this evening, which no doubt Tony-boy noticed. Her hair was down in loose curls which fell upon the fabric of a deep, almost navy blue, one shouldered dress. However, Miss. Potts was too absorbed by the schedule on her phone to notice Tony's slip-up, and blamed it on his poor juggling skills instead. The lucky twit.

"I trust you received the slight change to tonight's plan?"

She looked up. "Yes, Mr. Stark, I did," She turned to the younger Stark, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yep, totally."

"Almost. Just one thing."

She walked over to him and began to straighten his bow tie. Tony almost dropped on the spot. _So that's why he didn't help me with it._ He leant forward by the tiniest degree to inhale her scent and give her one of those looks. Those awkward looks they seemed to share all too often. Pepper retreated by the same degree very discreetly and gave off her usual aura – amused and distant. She turned to Howard whilst tweaking the edges of his tie.

"Is it the Alliance Project you're working on tonight? Are they pulling an emergency shift?"

"Not quite. There are a few bugs I want to work on by myself before I bring the worker ants in."

She shook her head. "I should've known you wouldn't relax."

He laughed. "You've been my assistant for how long, Potts?"

"Three years, seven months."

He laughed again. "Yep, definitely a keeper. Whaddya think, Tony?"

Tony looked at her again. "I don't know, seems a bit risky having one woman in control of everything."

She smoothed down his lapels. "I doubt I have any control over anything."

"Women always do."

She glanced up at him, confusion in her eyes. He stepped away slightly; breaking contact and making them both feel suddenly very uncomfortable. He looked around. "I think I hear Happy pulling up. We should go now."

She quickly regained her poise and checked the time on her phone. "Yes, yes we should. I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Stark." She said to Howard.

"Bye, Dad. Call if you have any problems. In fact, no, just ask JARVIS." He amended, seeing his father's conspiratorial face over the edge of the pad.

"Oh, I'll be fine. Go – have fun."

As the pair left, Howard got up to retrieve some files from his office. He had arranged to go straight to the Stark Industries high security compound where the mysterious blue box was being kept after seeing Tony and Pepper off. He was only a few miniscule details away from possibly the greatest discovery of his career. He was secretly glad he could palm the charity event off on Tony in the guise of a date and get on with some actually interesting stuff. It was a win-win scenario. Don't get him wrong, he was all for feeding starving children and saving the rainforest – just not in favour of the bloody boring speeches that accompanied them. You'd think a couple of fat cheques would be enough, but _no_, they had to rub their advertising in your face as well. _Yep, have fun, Anthony._

* * *

"... The average carbon footprint of a technology-based company is around forty thousand-"

"And Stark Industries?"

"Nowhere near around that number."

"Ha, thought so."

"It's around a third higher."

"A-oh. Right. But biotech's got to count for something, right?"

"I will admit that your research is helping to pave the way for more efficient-"

"So it does count?"

"Well, yes, but you still release-"

"Just how much have we donated to your tree-scheme?"

"A great deal – around one point two million-"

"Which will result in the plantation of how many trees?"

"Thousands."

"And your point is."

"That it's still important to be aware of how much damage-"

"D'you want the one-point-two-mil or not?"

"Mr. Stark, this is a noble action, but it doesn't write off any-"

"I'm hearing a no..."

"That's not what I said!"

"Is everyone having a nice evening?" One of the event organisers, Anna-something, enquired, having flounced over in her questionably furry wrap.

"I'm feeling greener already; almost want to chain myself to a shrub."

She was about to respond (as was the avid eco-campaigner) when Tony noticed something extremely, exceptionally important and departed with a charming smile and an 'excuse me'. They were left behind, baffled, but unable to do anything to regain the genius' attention. It was too engrossed by the little scene about ten metres from him.

For some unthinkable, vomit-inducing reason, Pepper was _dancing_ with the most infuriating prat in existence. Justin Hammer. He even had the audacity to grab her hip, even though she kept twisting herself away from him discreetly. At least Tony now had an excuse to dance with her. He slid up behind Hammer and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and the toady smile immediately disappeared.

"Hammer Tech, right?"

Hammer looked him up and down. "Well, well, well," he smirked, "No need to introduce you."

Tony smiled sweetly. "I know."

"Heard your Dad made a big donation to most of the trusts tonight. So did mine. Did you hear from Mr. Jackson that Hammer Industries has the smallest carbon footprint around? What's yours by the way?"

"A lot bigger than yours, I'm sure. But it would be, I suppose," Tony replied, feigning innocence, "We're pretty much the _biggest _corporation. In the world."

Hammer glared at him bitterly, but quickly changed tactics. He peered over Tony's shoulder at another guest leaning against the bar, organiser in hand. He waved her over and knew that she would co-operate after seeing his malevolence mirrored in her. She had been trying in vain for months to get an inside scoop from Stark Industries, which included propositioning Stark several times to no avail.

Tony also peered over his own shoulder and noticed her. Damn. Now this was irritating. Pepper quietly slipped in beside him whilst Hammer distracted himself.

Hammer greeted her cheerfully. "Christine! Great to see you. I'm sure you've met Stark Jr. here."

She smiled acidly at him. "Of course. And the lovely Miss. Potts. Still running after father and son?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at this when Pepper warmly said, "I should really be asking you the same question."

Christine paused, then laughed, as did Tony and Pepper. Hammer awkwardly followed. He then attempted to change tactics again. "Christine here did spread on me for Vanity Fair, did you see it? All about our green tech. Sold a tonne."

She nodded in agreement. Tony looked dazed, scrunched up his face and gestured between the two of them for a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. She did a spread on you?"

Pepper leant in and said, "Yes, that's what he said," she paused, "She did a story on him too."

"Ah, right." He said, rolling his eyes.

The opposite pair gaped whilst they looked on knowingly. Tony finished things off for them. "Well, this certainly has been enlightening. I'll see you around. Care to dance, Miss. Potts?" He offered, holding out his hand to her.

"Of course, Mr. Stark." She replied, feeling too victorious to decline as she had promised herself all evening.

* * *

Howard stretched back in the chair he had been occupying for the better part of two and a half hours. Everything was pretty much set, theoretically anyways. Now all there was left to do was trial the amendments first thing tomorrow. He clasped his hands, satisfied. He could almost taste success – and contentment. Contentment in the fact that he had put the blue box to use and that Steve hadn't died for nothing. This could stop global warming, or at least slow it down. It could be generated in abundance, therefore be cheap enough for developing countries, not to mention the average family. Steve wouldn't know how much good he had done for so many.

He rubbed his hands over his face, deciding he was done for the day. He ran a hand through his hair, identical to Tony's, save for the several silver strands which he refused to acknowledge. How time had flown. Tony was now as old as Maria's coffin. She had been gone for so long and he had thought that he would never recover, but funnily enough, he never had time to dwell on her memory. He had put most of his focus into raising his son and was now glad that he did. Things had turned out alright, in the end.

His train of thought was halted when the lab was plunged into inky darkness and only the iridescent pinpricks of light from the machinery were visible. He arose from his chair slowly as a voice cut through the black and flooded him with confusion. He was alone in the compound. Alone with Obadiah.

* * *

Hmmm... I tend to fail at fluff...

As always, reviews = nom nom.

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	11. Chapter 11

I just knew that I had to get an update done at least for Christmas, so:

Drum roll please...

The highly anticipated crossover begins now.

* * *

Chapter 11

**Alternate Universe**

Stark Industries High Security Compound

* * *

"It's a bit late, isn't it? Even for you."

He smiled good-naturedly. Howard uncoiled slightly and smiled with relief. "You got me for a second there," he yawned and glanced at his wristwatch, "And I suppose I have pushed it a bit further than usual tonight. But what can I say? I was burning the midnight oil, so to speak."

His business partner walked closer, grinning, hands in his pockets beneath a solid and imposing torso. "So what is it this time? Upgrades on the Starkphone, satellite blueprints... or that bloody box." His voice took on a hardened edge.

Howard sighed. "I don't see why you're so against it. We're not taking a massive risk developing the technology. It's not like all of the company's assets are resting on this. I'm just... broadening our horizons."

"Exactly. _You're _doing just that. Or you and Tony, to be more exact," he snapped back bitterly.

"Wait. You can't be telling me that you're _jealous _of Tony?"

"God no," Obadiah emphasised with a swing of his head, sending a frustrated look at the wall.

"Then what? You're just a big a part of everything as I am, as he is."

"Yeah, I'm a massive part of _Stark _Industries, clearly."

Howard stood up, becoming defensive, "Let's not forget, _you _were perfectly happy to take a back seat. You also know that even then I held the majority share of the company," he spoke more softly, sensing the tension between them, "I'm not pushing you out, Obie."He clasped his hand onto his shoulder.

"Then drop this energy nonsense and get back to what got us here." Obadiah pleaded.

Howard sighed and dropped his hand. Obadiah continued. "This is dangerous. You can't possibly think this could work..."

"Yes, actually I do think that this could work. You never have faith in me."

"I don't place faith in fairytales."

Howard was taken aback. Neither man spoke as a pregnant pause elapsed. When did things start to go so wrong? It felt like only yesterday his best friend was there to comfort him and support him when he was at his lowest. He looked down for a moment then shot a questioning look into the taller man's grey eyes. "...Not even in friendship?"

That was when the tipping point was reached. Obadiah shook his head gently, an empty curve to his lips. He replied almost sadly. "Not for a while. And I do regret that. But we have to face facts," he continued diplomatically, "Our paths are diverging." He spread both hands outwards as though miniature versions of them were balancing on his splayed fingers.

Howard narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying: forget about the box, forget about this project... or I'll have to make you. If you want this alliance," he gestured between them, "Then forget that one."

Howard crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders defiantly. "How do you intend to make me? Especially if our so-called friendship means nothing to you."

Obadiah rubbed his jaw tiredly. He knew that Howard would act like this. Ah well. Never let it be said that he didn't offer him a get out clause. He pursed his lips and turned away. He began to walk around one of the consoles.

"What- Obie, whatever this is, we can work it out-" He made to come closer when Obadiah practically yelled.

"Just stop! Just," he exhaled loudly as the conversation became heavier to bear, "If you're really my friend, admit it. The day Tony arrived I might as well have resigned. There just wasn't enough room anymore. I was just reserving the spot a Stark would take some day."

Howard stared, stock still.

"Well I can't turn back now." He paused and licked his lips, contemplating something Howard didn't know. "Goodbye Howard. You were... an inspiration to me."

With that, he turned and walked briskly from the room, leaving Howard reeling. He took a few moments to register his friend's words before trying to follow him. As he hurried round the console and towards the exit Obadiah had just left through, he saw them. Eight inconspicuous black cubes positioned evenly around the rim of the ceiling and embedded into the concrete and steel supports. He hadn't paid attention to them before, because they hadn't been flashing like they were now, or beeping madly like they were now. The combination was never a good sign. He had no time to lose. In his gut he knew the compound was no longer safe. He didn't waste any time in wondering how or why Obadiah had done it and rushed to the thick chrome doors. This response had obviously been expected, as the double doors slammed shut in front of him. Stupidly, they had been the only entrance or exit. He had come in late when the building was supposed to be closed down and had opened only one door, not expecting a death plot to be waiting for him in the shadows. Damn it all. He gripped the edges of the window frame in one of the doors and was faced with Obadiah.

In an act of compassion the older man didn't even himself expect, he raised his hand and met Howard's white fingertips through the glass. Could he honestly do this? Turn his back on his oldest friend? Regret and sorrow were pulsing in his veins alongside the bitter black. Yes, he thought savagely, memories of betrayal and abandonment clouding his vision until all he could see was a traitor. This was it. He would get his dues after years of servitude beneath his _friend_.

He ripped his hand from the door and stalked outside and towards a control panel jutting out of the wall several metres from the doorway. Three months prior to that day he had come to know a man linked with the most war torn areas of Afghanistan. Come to know him very well. He wanted some of Stark Industries most exclusive weaponry, which Obadiah couldn't get hold of without question until Howard was out of the way. He wrenched the loosened casing off with more fury than fear. Raza had done as he had promised and left the detonator within, latched onto the wiring like a parasite.

Obadiah breathed out painfully, shoulders hunching. He activated it and the countdown began. He held his breath. A small voice told him there was still time. Time to go back for him. But he ignored it; they were beyond repair.

He was less than a mile down the expressway when the time ran out.

* * *

**Movie Universe_  
_**

S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters

Meeting Room 4, Level 3, East Wing

* * *

Bruce was going over a summary of the Tesseract's odd behaviour when the Captain opened the door timidly. The doctor peered over his glasses and continued as Steve made his way awkwardly to a vacant chair. Bruce was the only one to offer any acknowledgement; Fury, Natasha and Clint were focussing, sullen-faced, at the projected images and graphs on the screen that Bruce had helpfully prepared.

"So... you basically don't know what's gone wrong?"

Bruce adjusted his glasses, not really phased by the director's brusque attitude anymore. "In a manner of speaking; yes."

"But you can stop it somehow?"

Once again, his answer was vague. "Not necessarily _stop _it. I think that there's very little we can do but call Thor down and have him take it back to Asgard. We certainly don't need it and it's causing us nothing but trouble. And it _is _theirs, after all."

Bruce changed his mind. Fury's one eyeballed stare could shake any man, Hulk or not. "And option number two?" the director dead-panned.

"I really don't see what else we can do. Without some background knowledge on what it even is and how it works, I've exhausted all leads. I would ask Tony, but he's busy enough with the Arc acting up."

Fury sat back and sighed quietly, the debacle at the tower opening re-entering his mind. Steve decided it was a good an opening as any. He'd been thinking about it for a while and despite his nonexistent knowledge of physics, chose to throw his theory into the mix so he could at least feel as though he a contributing member of the team.

"D'you think the two could be connected? The Arc Reactor _and _the Tesseract?"

He regretted saying it as the three agents fixed him with multiple incredulous looks. Bruce, however, remained speculative. Steve hoped the man would let him down gently.

"You know, I wouldn't have thought of that," Bruce punctuated the thought with his index finger, "Right now I can't think of a linking variable... but I suppose there's always a chance. I'll mention it to Tony."

This seemed to placate Fury to a degree, as he rose from his seat. "Well it seems you've been gifted with another lead, doctor. Report back if anything of consequence should occur."

Bruce tried not to take the comment the wrong way, as snide as it may be, but-

He was cut off mid-thought by a rumble beneath his brown loafers. Clint clutched at the arms of his seat and Natasha jumped out of hers into attack mode, knees bent and legs parted for increased stability, hand on gun. "It's happening again," her smooth forehead scrunched up and she turned to Steve, "But _here_."

"Get your asses down there. If it poses a threat to personnel, order an evacuation. Go."

They jumped to it, the assassins with practiced ease, Steve and Bruce with a bit less. The corridors were teeming with agents caught up in their own objectives as the four raced down to the control area in which the Tesseract was being kept. Fury headed to the main control area to issue direction to other agents over the comm. system, whether it was to guard, evacuate or follow as back-up.

In contrast to the adrenaline surging through their respective bloodstreams, the four Avengers found themselves bouncing on the balls of their feet in the elevator on the way down. Bruce didn't notice the time taken as keenly as he did then, feeling very uncomfortable and useless. If there was a real threat, he wasn't sure how he'd cope. The Other Guy didn't do slow and steady. He had automatically begun breathing exercises without even realising. In through the nasal passages, wind pipe, trachea, bronchi, bronchioles, alveoli, across the plasma membranes and into the blood plasma, out through the alveoli, bronchioles, bronchi, trachea...

"It's probably just another fluctuation." Natasha met his gaze with her own in an attempt to reassure him, even though they both knew she never considered anything as a false alarm. He nodded, not quite believing her, but wanting to all the same.

After an age they arrived and after barely thirty seconds were inside the containment zone. There wasn't much point in entering as they were thrown right back out by a surge that rippled through the air with the Tesseract at its epicentre, blazing and convulsing white, blue and black.

By some miracle, Bruce had managed to hold on to himself and immediately started soothing the Beast that blotted his vision green, curling his fists into tense balls. Steve leapt up and covered himself with his forearms, squinting through the gaps. He edged closer, physically pushing against the force that was restricting his movement. Natasha and Clint crept closer too, but remained several feet behind him, barely able to hold their ground even there.

Then it stopped. The light disappeared as though it had been switched off, causing them all to jar forward. Bruce was reasonably stable from his position on the floor, whilst Clint and Natasha fell forward, cursing the artefact's ability to mess them about, even now.

Steve stumbled but grabbed onto the side of a mangled console as the dust and smoke cleared, revealing the detritus of a wrecked lab. So wrecked in fact, that he barely registered the figure on all fours barely inches from the Tesseract. Steve straightened up hesitantly, not quite trusting its own legs, then regretted the action upon seeing the figure.

Natasha's neck snapped upwards almost audibly as a broken, disbelieving whisper left the Captain's lips.

"..._Howard?"_

* * *

And so it begins. Finally. Sorry about the wait, but I hope this has quelled some anticipation!

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. I'm really humbled by how many people think I'm doing okay. This story has garnered the most attention out of my work and I'm quite excited. 112 alerts!

Stay tuned and above all, keep safe and have a lovely holiday.

Anxious Owl (^,^)


	12. Chapter 12

I realised only upon completion of the previous chapter that it left a worse cliff-hanger than I'd anticipated. Oops. Please accept my unworthy appologies.

Hope you enjoy…

* * *

Chapter 12

**Alternate Universe **

In an apartment block somewhere in Malibu...

* * *

Loki awoke with a start. _Blasted mattress_. After months on this pitiful rock he'd expected to at least acclimatise to the poor standard. Apparently not. But that wasn't all that had broken his sleep. Something had happened, like ripples on the surface of a stagnant lake. Something to do with his custodian.

He swung his legs gracefully over the side of the bed and rose, checking the time on the wall clock as he did so: eleven forty-nine. He frowned. Surely Howard Stark would be at the charity event, if not already at home? Within seconds he conjured up some suitable attire (his three piece trademark, with matching overcoat) and strode out of his apartment, down a flight of stairs (_stairs, really?_) and disappeared into the darkened street.

Stringent restrictions had been enforced upon his magical capabilities by the Allfather following his repentance, allowing him only the most basic of charms. He remembered being horror-struck as he was told of his sentence. He was to be stripped of all but the barest of godly powers before being sent down to serve the very race he had terrorised, more specifically, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. who could 'keep an eye on him', so to speak. The restrictions included teleportation, forcing him to utilise more mortal forms of transportation. He paused at the edge of the pavement and let out a shrill whistle that the younger Stark had taught him was the only means of hailing the group known as 'cabbies'. He shuddered as he slipped into the back seat of a worn yellow taxi-cab.

"Where to, pal?"

Loki's upper lip curled involuntarily. "Stark Mansion. I assume you are familiar with the location?"

"Course I am, who isn't?" the cabbie grinned in the rear view mirror at the pale man, "Ay, haven't I seen you someplace before?"

"I highly doubt that."

"Sure you ain't some actor? Pretty sure the missus forced me'ta watch some flick with a guy like you in it."

"I am an actor," Loki gave a hollow smile, "If that involves pretending to care about your inane pastimes with your wench. Now shut your flapping trap and get me to my location, peasant."

_Next time, perhaps a less hostile tone with the inferior of mind, _Loki mused, nursing his bruised ego from his position on the concrete as the man sped away down the street.

* * *

"Dry, with olives, just how you like it."

Pepper smiled shyly as she accepted her drink. "Thank you."

Tony and Pepper leant against the bar as they sipped their respective drinks in silence. For once, though, it wasn't entirely awkward. It was a companionable silence, heavy with unspoken words. Tony was the first to break it, ever loquacious as he was, but even he had little to say.

"This was... nice. Better than I'd expected."

Pepper grinned and replied, "If you got your head out of an engine for once in a while you'd have realised sooner."

He wasn't quite sure whether she was referring to the charity gala, or _them_. Once again for fear of putting his foot in his mouth (which occurred far too often) they slipped into silence. The second interruption, however, was far from warm. It shot ice down his spine. The monitors scattered around the room fuzzed noisily as they tuned into the local television station. Phones began to ring among confused whispers, including those of Tony and Pepper. He pulled his out of his pocket but was unable to answer, eyes locked on the screens.

"_Breaking news at twelve, an explosion was detected at the Stark Industries High Security Compound less than thirty minutes ago. The event was witnessed by a number of drivers from the expressway and according to Stark Industries HQ, the building was closed for the night as no employees were expected to be present. Police are not yet sure of possible casualties, however have reason to believe that the explosion was a pre-meditated attack on the company. At the moment we have no more information, but will keep track of the story as it develops..."_

"Tony...," Pepper breathed, her face ashen.

He was shaken out of his shocked stupor, enough to notice the caller ID on his Starkphone: _Loki_.

He answered, voice fast and loud with adrenalin. "Where are you, what's happened?"

Loki, meanwhile, was sidestepping smoking lumps of charred metal and ash. "I'm at the compound. Everything's destroyed. You don't need to be the God of Chaos to know that this was no accident."

"Is Dad there?"

"I thought that he was attending the charity gala with Ms. Potts?"

"No, _I'm _here with her instead of him. He said he was going to stay back at the mansion."

"I've just spoken to Mr. Hogan. He wasn't there."

"What?! Well then where is he?"

"How am _I_ supposed to know?"

"I thought you were a _God_ for heaven's sake!"

Loki ignored the pun. "I don't have eyes everywhere, I'm not Heimdall!"

"Okay, okay, call up HQ. He should be heading down there anyway. We'll be coming too." He looked at Pepper as he said so, looking grim, and ended the call.

Loki frowned and looked at the screen. _Charming_.

* * *

Barely fifteen minutes later and the group of five were assembled near the entrance to the obliterated compound, the five consisting of Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and Loki. The chief of police had just filled them in on the investigation so far, with Rhodey and Loki adding in any extra details they had gathered from picking through the debris. The chief would acknowledge Rhodey's input, but seemed hesitant to take Loki seriously. Happy mentally concluded that it was probably the accent and snakey look about him.

"Any word on Dad?" Tony questioned quietly.

Rhodey replied, "Not just yet, but I'm sure he's just buried in some new invention in the lab or something," he added, trying to sound reassuring.

"Yeah, yeah, course..."

"I have to say, this is quite impressive. The walls were a good three feet thick weren't they? Must've taken a great deal of force to pulverize the..." Loki quietened at the incredulous looks on their faces, and the murderous one on Pepper's. "Yep..."

Rhodey sparked up, "Seriously, do you even have any-"

"Obie!" The fight was broken as Tony jogged over to a tired looking Obadiah who had just gotten out of his car.

"Do you know where Dad is?"

"Oh, Tony I don't know how to tell you this," he pressed his lips into a line sadly, "When I saw your Dad earlier this evening he said that he was going to work on his blueprints."

"Yeah, I know, he told me that too..." Tony followed, but not quite reaching the conclusion.

"He told me that he would be coming down here to run some tests and the like. Oh, Son, I'm so sorry." He clasped the younger man's shoulders.

It looked as though if he pulled away, Tony would crumble into a thousand pieces. He looked up at him. "No, no, what if he went to the labs on Mason Street? The compound was empty, locked, he couldn't have, he can't..."

Obadiah continued softly, "It does make sense, though, Tony. The place was rigged, set to go off... when your Dad would be here."

Tony looked him in the eyes defiantly, even though they were glossy with tears. "Why? Why now, of all times? We've been at the top for so long. There was no sign, nothing..."

"There never is."

"We don't know for sure that he's – that he's dead. There no evidence, no sign. Maybe he left before it happened."

"Let's hope." Obadiah responded bleakly.

Tony turned around to see Rhodey with a comforting arm around Pepper's shoulders as she cupped her mouth with a pale hand, Happy looking ironically crestfallen and Loki just expressionless in shock.

Behind them lay the smouldering remains of years' worth of research and possibly, his father's final resting place.

* * *

**Movie verse**

Steve dropped onto the bed in the medical bay, stunned to silence. Nat watched him warily, as did Clint. They had not known the elder Stark, while Steve had been his close friend. They couldn't imagine what was going through the man's head. The Captain licked his lips and swallowed. "So... is it really... him?"

The assassins shared a brief glance before Nat replied: "According to a DNA check... yes."

"Right. Right. How did this even happen? How is it even _possible_? Do you think Loki had anything to do with this?"

"From a dark and dingy magical cell in the sky? Not likely." Clint deadpanned, wanting to keep the trickster god out of the conversation.

"Bruce is on it. Hopefully we can get something from the readings recorded before the blast." Nat reasoned. "He's also checking over him in one of the private med rooms under surveillance."

"Yeah..." Steve breathed, not really paying attention at all.

He was in a room less than a hundred metres from him. Howard Stark. The only piece of his past that was tangible, real. His friend. The Howard from his memories was suave, sophisticated, a brazen genius with his heart in the right place. The man from the smoke was aged and exhausted. Steve had barely gotten a good look before a team of agents had descended upon the man, ushering him out of view. He had been too disorientated to go after them.

The door opened and closed with a gentle click. Usually everything Fury did was firm and precise; gentle was not an adjective most associated him with. Natasha noticed that their fearless leader appeared more haggard than they had seen him before. They assumed that he, too, was in a state of shock, albeit a more polished, controlled form. Howard had been his friend too, a respected colleague he had looked up to. A man who had been confirmed dead over twenty years ago. The mere notion that the very same man could appear from nowhere, aged naturally as he would've had he not been involved in the crash, was bizarre in the extreme. But Nicholas Joseph Fury had been trained for anything, no matter how improbable.

"As you all should know now, the man who came from the Tesseract... is who we think. Howard Stark," he paused to find the right words, "He is being treated for minor injuries sustained from the, ah, transportation."

Clint frowned. "Wait a sec. You mean to say he's come from another time, another dimension?"

"We don't have anything concrete yet, but Dr. Banner hypothesises that in the same way that Loki was able to come through a portal formed by the Tesseract, Howard may have also been thrown into our world from another."

"He's not our Howard, is he?" Steve finally broke in, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

Fury looked him in the eye, almost sadly. "We don't have anything concrete," he repeated, "... But we have to consider everything, even alternate dimensions, as ludicrous as that may be."

"We've faced Gods, magic and bloody flying jumbo shrimp from outer space," Clint said, "Something tells me that the insanity isn't over yet."

* * *

Bruce lowered the chart and peered over it from beneath his glasses. The man who emerged from the Tesseract had received only a few bruises during the ordeal, surprisingly. Even more surprising was what the DNA test had confirmed – he really was Tony's father. He could see the similarities between them; they had a similar build and facial features, but Tony had a softer jaw line and rounder eyes. He took in the older man's general appearance; a (formerly) white shirt, dusty black suit trousers, a silver watch, salt and pepper hair. He was somewhat rested and calm. He had managed to persuade Fury to allow him to talk to the man because he felt that their guest would be much more comfortable and willing to talk to him. He was also incredibly fascinated by the means of his arrival. He walked forward and glanced in the mirror off to the side of the room. It wouldn't hurt to make sure that he looked at least a little professional. He gave a small kind smile.

"According to this there are no serious injuries, which is good. But the real question is: how did this happen? I know that you say you're Howard Stark, head of Stark Industries based in New York and you have a son," He paused, "But tell me a bit more about this _accident_."

Howard sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I suppose it wasn't really an accident." He licked his lower lip in thought. "My business partner did this to me. My friend."

Bruce stopped, linking the pieces together, "...Obadiah Stane."

Howard looked up, surprised. "You know him?"

"I know _of _him. But not your him, our him. Well, technically, not _ours. _The Obadiah Stane that lived in our universe." He babbled.

Howard nodded slowly, trying to keep up. "So, what you've been trying to explain to me... is that somehow I've been thrown into another reality? With the same people and places?"

"In effect, yes. A story with the same lives that have progressed differently."

"...So there's another me here?"

Bruce bit his lip, not wanting to go down that particular route. "Well, ah, there was. He died a while back in a car accident. Stane also died in an accident, but only a few years back." He said vaguely, not sure of how much the man's life had diverged.

"Then, then what about my wife, is she alive?" he asked earnestly.

"I'm sorry, no, she passed away at the same time as you... your counterpart."

"And did we have any children, a son?"

Bruce was teetering on the edge once more: how much should he divulge? "You had one son. To-"

"-Tony." Howard smiled proudly.

"Yes." Bruce added in surprise.

"How is he? What does he do now? I assume he's head of the company-"

Bruce held his hands up, "I really think that we should try to focus on what happened and what risks now face us."

The door opened. "I agree."

Fury strode in, slightly more composed than he had been. He was flanked by Natasha and Clint. He turned to face Howard and paused to take him in. "Mr. Stark. It's an honour to speak to you again."

Howard grinned broadly. "Nicky boy, time has served you well. Mostly."

"It's a long story."

Howard smiled teasingly, "I think I have plenty of time to hear it."

"At the moment. And you should know that we do things a little differently here." Fury replied, all knowingly.

"You sure do. How _old _is your equipment? We have more advanced technology in our coffee-makers."

"I think we managed things pretty well, actually. We _did _save the Earth from a horde of aliens barely six months ago. But that's _another_ story."

Nat and Clint were trying to follow the conversation and were taken aback at how easily the men spoke to each other. Nat raised her eyebrows at Stark's insult at their organisation. But then again, Tony wasn't much different. Her stomach sank. Tony.

Fury continued. "Dr. Banner, I am taking Mr. Stark for a debriefing," he turned to the man in question, "Sorry, but you understand protocol better than most."

"Unfortunately, I do. Lead the way."

The two men left together, and Bruce was surprised at how easily Howard fell into step with Fury. He shared a look with Nat and Clint. "He's taking it all in his stride. But then again, he _is _the head S.H.I.E.L.D in his world."

Clint shook his head in bewilderment, "A Stark in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D and it _hasn't_ burnt to the ground. Wow."

"Well, he did start off this one." Natasha supplied.

"Yeah, let's be thankful that Tony's too lazy to force his inherited right and try to take over."

They all froze and breathed out collectively. Nat pursed her lips and spoke. "So. Who's going to tell him?"

"What? That his dad who's dead isn't really dead, but isn't really his dad either?" Clint said, arms crossed.

"I'll do it."

The three turned to the door, which had opened once more. Steve stood tall and unwavering, but his eyes looked tired and glassy. "I'll tell him. I- I want to."

Bruce darted his eyes between the assassins, trying to gauge the intelligence of this particular move. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, doctor. If it isn't a problem with you all then I want to be the one to do it. Me and Tony... Howard is common ground for us. We both knew him and valued him."

Nat and Clint gave a look of agreement. Neither were more qualified to do the job than Steve. Bruce still appeared hesitant. Steve wasn't necessarily as close to Tony as perhaps he was, but he had a point. "Okay, sure. But go about it slowly. It's a heck of a lot to absorb."

Steve nodded and left quickly. He had observed the entire conversation Bruce had shared with Howard through the two way mirror, all the while trying to superimpose this stranger onto the man he had called friend all those years ago.

He would take any chance to reconnect with his past and, hopefully, finally connect with Tony.

* * *

Holy fish, that was a big one, and required immense effort to write. It feels like it's getting harder and harder (as you can tell by the horrendous gaps between updates). But do not despair, I shall soldier on.

Reviews would be cherished and loved eternally. They also fuel my muse...

Thanks again.

Anxious Owl (^,^)


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